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DIANTHA'S  QUEST 


BY 

EMILIE  BENSON  KNIPE 

AND 
ALDEN  ARTHUR  KNIPE 


Girls  of  '64 

A  Maid  of  '76 

A  Cavalier  Maid 

Polly  Trotter,  Patriot 

A  Maid  of  Old  Manhattan 


«  «     C '      t         c  < 


c    t      c    c*^    e   « c "        e  c    t  c  <  t    "^    r   S  "^ 


IT  WAS  NOT  A  PICTURE  BUT  A  MAP 


>    >  0        '> 


DIANTHA'S 

A  Tale  of  the  Argonauts  of  H9 


BY 

EMILIE   BENSON  KNIPE 

AND 

ALDEN  ARTHUR    KNIPE 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1922 
Jll  rights  reserved 


i>RIl^Ed  il^  TfaE'UN'lTED  STATES  OP  AMERICA 


Copyright,  1921 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  October,  1921. 


7 


FERRIS  PRINTING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    A  Jumping-ofF  Place i 

II.  A  Mappe  of  the  Lande  of  Faery  .       .       .14 

III.  The  Bidwell's  Bar  Express      ....     23 

IV.  Fairy  God-Mothers 40 

V.    Sam  Adopts  a  Family 52 

VI.    Uncle  Toby  Has  a  Plan 67 

VII.    On  the  Trail 75 

VIII.    Indians 91 

IX.    "SittyDol!" 100 

X.    The  Golden  Fleece 112 

XI.    Little  Timmy  Cronin 125 

XII.    Buffalo 137 

XIII.  Dots  to  the  Rescue  151 

XIV.  A  Strange  Indian 162 

XV.    The  Trail  is  Blocked 174 

XVI.    At  Salt  Lake  City 184 

XVII.  In  the  Witches'  Mountain       .        .        .        .193 

XVIII.    News  of  Mr.  Carter 207 

XIX.    Sour  ball  in  Trouble 217 

XX.    The  End  of  the  Trail 227 

XXI.    Yerber  Speaks  Out 246 

XXII.    A  Torn  Map 262 

XXIII.  Sourball  Walks  In 271 

XXIV.  Sam's  Wish  Comes  True         .       .       .       .287 


5019^4 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

T.     It  was  not  a  picture  but  a  map Frontispiece 

2.  Photograph  of  the  old  Pocket  Guide  to  California     19 

3.  "In  your  wagon-box,  besides  my  father's  gloves"     ^^ 

4.  Hurriedly  he  took  off  his  red  neckerchief 98 

5.  "There's  Injuns,  too" ; 143 

6.  "Me  tell" .' 171 

7.  It  was  the  map  of  fairyland  he  was  hunting  for. .  264 


DIANTHA'S  QUEST 

CHAPTER  I 

A  JUMPING-OFF  PLACE 

ONE  April  day,  in  the  year  1849,  a  little  girl, 
dressed  daintily,  if  cheaply,  in  gaily  flowered 
calico,  sat  drawing  with  a  pointed  stick  in 
the  clean  sand  at  her  feet.  She  wore  a  straw  sun- 
bonnet  pulled  well  over  her  fate  and  seemed  quite 
oblivious  to  the  activities  of  the  strange  camp  not 
far  away.  There  many  men  and  women,  already 
accustomed  to  life  under  canvas,  were  making  bread, 
washing  clothes,  scouring  tins,  mending  harness,  re- 
pairing the  high  tops  of  their  wagons;  busy,  in  a 
hundred  ways,  with  the  homely  tasks  which  were 
their  daily  portion.  Dotted  here  and  there  over  the 
broad  plains,  stretching  out  like  a  green  carpet  to 
the  west,  were  knots  of  cattle,  mules,  oxen  and  horses 
grazing  under  the  watchful  eyes  of  mounted  at- 
tendants. Behind  the  camp,  separated  from  it  by 
the  river,  was  the  little  town  of  St.  Joseph,  the  last 
center  of  civilization  that  these  Argonauts  were  to 
see  for  many  a  weary  day. 

Above  the  noise  of  their  activities  came  the  cheer- 

1 


r?*  s  ;>t  f :  •*«;*t :    i  Di'antha's  Quest 

ful  shouts  of  the  workers  who  seemed  overflowing 
with  enthusiasm.  It  was  hard  to  believe  'that  only 
a  few  short  weeks  before  they  had  been  living 
ordered  lives,  most  of  them  on  prosperous  farms 
which  they  had  never  thought  to  leave,  until  news 
that  gold  had  been  discovered  in  California  stirred 
them  to  undertake  the  great  adventure  they  were 
now  embarked  on. 

The  chiH,  bent  over  her  task,  drew  steadily  on 
the  sand.  It  became  evident,  as  the  sketch  prog- 
ressed, that  it  was  not  a  picture  she  was  at  work  on 
but  a  map,  and  one  that  she  held  firmly  in  her  mem- 
ory for  she  hesitated  over  no  detail  of  it. 

Jumping  up  to  carry  it  beyond  the  boundary  with- 
in reach,  she  collided  with  a  boy  of  about  thirteen 
who  had  drawn  near  out  of  curiosity  and  had  re- 
mained as  absorbed  as  she  in  what  she  was  doing. 
Annoyed  at  being  observed,  she  at  once  started  to 
erase  her  work  with  a  foot  the  slenderness  of  which 
was  ill  disguised  by  the  clumsy,  thick-soled  shoes  she 
wore ;  but  the  boy  stopped  her. 

"Don't  rub  it  out,  sissy,"  he  said,  **leastways,  not 
till  Fve  showed  you  where  you're  plum  wrong."  He 
reached  back  as  he  spoke  and  pulled  a  pamphlet  out 
of  a  pocket  in  the  striped  jean  trousers  he  wore. 

"My  name  is  not  *sissy,'  "  the  girl  said,  with  a 
show  of  offended  dignity. 

"I  never  supposed  it  was,  but  I  had  to  call  you 
something,"  the  boy  returned.  "Now  you  sit  right 
down  here  and  I'll  show  you  this.     It's  the  real  Con- 


A  Jumping-Off  Place  3 

gresh^nal  map,  and  it  ought  to  be  right/'  He  seated 
himself  as  he  spoke  and  the  girl  slipped  down  be- 
side him,  her  sunbonnet  serving  now  to  conceal  her 
amused  smiles. 

*'Livin'  near  here,  I  reckon  you  talk  to  lots  of 
folks  who  are  hittin'  the  trail,  so  perhaps  youVe  seen 
one  of  these  afore  ?"    He  held  out  the  book. 

As  the  girl  took  it,  shaking  her  head  in  the  nega- 
tive, a  number  of  newspaper  clippings  fell  from  be- 
tween the  pages  of  the  thin  volume,  and  the  boy 
hastened  to  pick  them  up,  as  if  they  were  precious. 

"Read  that  first,'*  he  suggested,  selecting  one. 
"Or  shall  I  read  it  for  you?"  This  last  remark  was 
inspired  by  the  delicate  consideration  that  perhaps 
such  learning  was  beyond  her,  a  fact  which  the  girl 
divined  and  laughed  at  secretly. 

"Oh,  I  can  read  it,"  she  said,  and  glanced  at  the 
frayed  slip  of  paper  in  her  hand. 

It  had  been  cut  from  a  number  of  The  Literary 
American  of  New  York  and  was  dated  December 
30th,  1848. 

"  *The  streams  are  paved  with  gold,'  "  the  girl 
murmured  as  her  eyes  followed  the  print.  "  *The 
mountains  swell  in  their  golden  girdle.  It  sparkles 
in  the  sands  of  the  valleys.  It  glitters  in  the  coronets 
of  the  steep  cliffs.'  " 

"That's  what  their  al-cal-dee  said,"  the  boy  in- 
terrupted excitedly.  "My  dad  says  *al-cal-dee'  is 
same  as — ^well,  not  President  exactly,  but  mayor  or 
judge." 


4  Diantha's  Quest 

The  girl  nodded  slowly  and  then  read  another 
sentence. 

"  *The  author  may  have  thought  that  there  was 
poetry  in  this  but  he  knew,  as  well  as  we  do,  that 
there  was  no  truth  in  it.'  '* 

"That's  what  the  editor  writ,"  the  boy  cut  in  re- 
sentfully. "But  he  'lows,  further  down,  that  there 
may  be  some  truth  in  it.  Anyway,  I  don't  think  an 
al-cal-dee  would  lie." 

"We  know  it's  true,"  the  girl  remarked  calmly, 
folding  the  paper  and  handing  it  back  to  her  com- 
panion. "I've  seen  a  man  who  was  in  San  Francisco 
when  .the  first  news  came." 

"Honest?"  the  boy  questioned  as  if  he  could 
scarcely  believe  it.     "What  did  he  say?" 

"He  told  us  all  about  it,"  the  girl  went  on,  half 
indifferently.  "A  Mormon  named  Sam  Brannancame 
swaggering  down  the  street,  swinging  his  hat  in  one 
hand  and  a  bottle  of  yellow  dust  in  the  other,  shout- 
ing *Gold!  Gold!  Gold  from  the  American  River!' 
And  then  everybody  seemed  to  go  crazy." 

The  boy  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"That's  something  to  tell  Dad!"  he  cried  and 
made  as  if  to  rise;  but  sank  back  again,  thinking,  per- 
haps, that  there  was  more  news  to  be  gleaned  from 
this  chance-met  child. 

"Did  the  man  who  told  you  all  that  make  a  big 
strike?"  he  asked  eagerly. 

The  girl,  instead  of  answering,  looked  up  and  put 
a  question  that  would  have  brought  an  exclamation 


A  Jumplng-Off  Place  5 

of  astonishment  from  any  member  of  the  crowded 
camp  near  them. 

"Why  do  you  care  so  much  about  gold?''  she  in- 
quired curiously. 

"Care  about  gold?"  he  echoed  in  astonishment. 
"Why  that's  what  we're  all  going  after!  Wouldn't 
you  like  to  find  a  treasure  all  your  own?  Sure  you 
would." 

"Yes,  I  shoul'd,  if  it  were  a  beautiful  treasure," 
she  answered,  her  eyes  glowing.  "If  it  were  dia- 
monds and  rubies  and  emera-lds,  that  sparkled  in  the 
light.  If  it  were  soft  silks  and  glittering  satins, 
woven  in  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.  That  is  the 
sort  of  treasure  I  s-hould  like.  But  just  lumps  of 
gold !  They  would  not  take  me  across  a  country  full 
of  snakes,  and  wolves,  and  Indians,  and  buffalos,  and 
musquitos !  No,  indeed !  And  why  should  you  go  ? 
A  man  can  find  work  that  pays  wherever  he  is." 

The  boy  laughed  at  this  outburst. 

"I  want  a  good  education,"  he  said,  "and  that 
costs  money.  At  least  the  kind  I'm  after  does.  And 
Dad  come  home  from  the  Mexican  war  to  find  what 
business  he  had  gone  to  the  dogs  so  he  joined  a  club 
artd,  bein'  lucky,  the  lot  fell  to  him." 

The  girl  pushed  back  her  sunbonnet  revealing  a 
flushed  and  very  pretty  face  surmounted  by  a  crop 
of  curly  red  hair,  and  the  boy  gazed  at  her  in  sur- 
prise. Although  she  wa-s  small  it  was  obvious  she 
was  nearly  his  own  age,  and  that  he  had  not  ex- 
pected. 


6  Diantha's  Qufest 

"What's  the  matter?"  she  asked,  a  shade  irritably. 
"Do  I  look  as  if  I'd  brte?" 

"No,  ma'am !  No,  ma'am !"  her  companion  splut- 
tered, "but  I  thought — I  thought — ." 

"I  know  what  you  thought,"  she  said,  witheringly, 
her  size  being  a  sore  point  with  her.  "You  thought 
that  everybody  of  the  same  age  came  cut  to  -the  same 
measure.  Well,  they  don't,  and  you  know  it  now! 
So  stop  staring  and  tell  me  about  your  father's  club. 
What  kind  of  a  club  was  it?" 

"You  must  have  heard  of  them,"  the  boy  insisted. 
"A  lot  of  men  meet  every  week  and  they  buy  all  the 
papers  they  can  get  that  have  news  in  them  about 
California.  They  talk  of  the  big  strikes  and  what 
kind  of  minin'  pans  out  best  and  then  they  all  pay 
dues,  so  much  a  week.  When  there's  enougJi  money 
to  grub-stake  a  man,  they  draw  lots  to  see  who's  to 
go.  Well,  my  dad  won.  That's  how  it  comes  we're 
here." 

"I  don't  quite  see  what  the  men  who  stay  behind 
get  out  of  it,"  the  girl  said,  musingly. 

"They  get  their  shares  of  course,"  the  boy  replied 
in  surprise.  "There  were  ten  altogether  in  Dad's 
club.  He  'lows  to  make  enough  to  put  all  t»heir  feet 
on  the  mantelpiece  for  the  rest  of  their  lives — and 
t'wouldn't  be  nothin'  unusual,  accordin'  to  the 
papers."  He  patted  his  small  bundle  of  clippings 
lovingly. 

"Did  they  send  you,  too?" 

"No,"  the  boy  acknowledged,  "they  even  didn't 


A  Jumplng-Off  Place  7 

want  me  to  go,  thinkln'  I'd  hold  Dad  back;  but  the 
others  had  families  and  business  or  farms  they 
couldn't  very  well  leave,  and  when  we'd  sold  every- 
thing up  we  had  enough  of  our  own  to  pay  for  my 
grub  and  to  buy  me  my  pinto  pony  (I  call  her  Tolka 
Dots.'  *Do'ts'  for  shfort.)  So  I'm  really  richer  than 
Dad.  He  only  has  a  right  to  a  tenth  of  what  he 
makes  and  my  strikes  will  be  all  my  own." 

The  lad  spoke  proudly  as  if  already  h*e  had  found 
rich  tre'asures,  as  indeed  he  had  many  times  in 
imagination. 

"And  there  ain't  goin'  to  be  any  holdin'  'back  done 
by  Dots  or  me,"  he  went  on,  giving  rein  to  his  fancy. 
*'We  could  ride  rings  around  Dad's  old  oxen  all  day 
and  not  be  tired,  and  w'hen  we  meet  Indians  or  buf- 
falo it'll  just  be  bang !  bang !  and  all  over  with  them ! 
Why  even  Dad  'lows  I  can  shoot  as  straight  as  any 
sharp-shooter  ever  he  met  up  with.  And  he  'lows  my 
pinto  is  a  great  little  mustang,  if  we  did  get  her 
mighty  cheap  because  she  was  sort  of  undersized." 

**My  father  used  to  say,  ^precious  things  usually 
come  in  small  packages.'  "  The  girl  smiled  demurely 
to  herself,  as  she  remembered  to  whom  this  playful 
remark  had  reference. 

But  the  boy,  full  of  his  own  ideas,  merely  nodded 
agreement  and  werft  on. 

"Dots  is  strong  an'  wiry,  like  a  mustang  ought  .lo 
be,  and  she's  smart.  She  can  do  tricks  already.  Find 
sugar  in  your  pocket,  she  will;  and  shake -hands; -and, 


8  Diantha's  Quest 

if  she's  loose,  she'll  come  when  I  whistle.  I  tell  you 
she's  a  rip-snorter,  she.is!'' 

The  girl  watched  him  thoughtfully  as  she  listened 
to  his  innocent  boasting.  She  liked  this  boy.  His 
speech  was  quite  different  from  what  she  was  accus- 
tomed to,  with  its  defects  of  grammar  and  pronunci- 
ation; but  she  recognized  *his  genuineness  and  re- 
sponded to  it  it  once.  Feeling  this,  he  continued 
earnestly. 

"Dots  is  the  first  real  pet  I  ever  had.  You  see 
I've  been  kind  of  bachin'  it  since  Dad  was  to  the 
war." 

"Bachin*  it?"  she  irfterrupted,  wrinkling  her  brow 
interrogatively.    "What  is  that?" 

"It  means  livin'  alone,  like  a  man  does  who  hasn't 
any  women  folks,"  the  t>oy  explained.  "Dad  left 
me  to  board  with  a  family;  but  I  just  couldn't  stand 
it.  I  hadn't  nary  place  to  study.  The  little  children 
was  always  fightin'  or  howlin*  fit  to  bust  your  ear- 
pans,  and,  wjhile  all  the  boys  was  expected  to  take  it 
turn  and  turn-about  to  do  the  chores,  it  was  me  that 
got  the  bawlin'  out  if  they  wasn't  done ;  so  I  up  and 
quit." 

"But  T^jhat  did  you  do?" 

"I  figured  that  rf  I  had  to  spend  all  that  time  on 
chores  I  might  as  well  be  pard  for  it,  so  I  got  a  place 
where  I  swept  out  the  store  mornin's  for  the  use  of 
their  loft  to  sleep  and  study  in.  They  paid  me  extry 
for  all  the  odd  jobs  I  did,  such  as  fillin'  oil  cans  and 
runnin'  errands,  so  I  made  out  to  live  and  got  so  I 


^  A  Jumping-Off  Place  9 

could  recernize  my  own  name  again.  I  never  heard 
nothin'  but  *you-Sam'  at  the  Huttons.'* 

"Is  your  name  Sam?" 

"Yes'm !  Vm  Sam  Brand,  Jr.  They  call  our  out- 
fit *The  S.  Brand/  like  we  was  a  bunch  of  cattle.'* 
He  laughed  at  the  thought. 

**I  am  Diantha  Carter,"  the  girl  introduced  her- 
self gravely ;  ;then  l^ioked  at  him  appraisingly  before 
she  added,  seemingly  satisfied  by  her  scrutiny,  "You 
may  call  me  Di.  I  don't  think  mama  would  object, 
although  she  has  cautioned  me  not  to  be  too  ready  to 
make  friends." 

"And  she's  right,  too!"  Sam  declared  unexpect- 
edly. "There's  some  mighty  rough  chara-cters 
jumpin'  off  from  here,  and  a  little  lady  like  you  had 
ought  to  be  kind  of  keerful.  Not  that  it's  as  bad 
as  it  must  be  goin'  by  way  of  the  Isthmus,"  he  added 
reflectively. 

"Tell  me  about  the  Isthmus,"  Diantha  com- 
manded. "I  know  that  it's  the  qmckest  way  to  go 
West,  but  too  expensive  for — "  She  stopped 
abruptly.  She  did  not  intend  to  talk  of  their  poverty 
to  this  new  acquaintance. 

"That's  right,"  Sam  agreed.  "It's  too  expensive 
for  most  folks.  Of  course  it's  the  quickest  way. 
Round  the  Horn's  slow,  and  sure,  and  safe,  and 
pretty  comfortable;  and  we  know  what  the  prairie 
trails  are.  But  the  men  who  are  sent  out  by  rich 
clubs  and  the  young  bloods  that, are  goin'  for  the 
fun  of  it,  hopin'  to  strike  it  rich  and  make  their  pile 


10  Dlantha's  Quest 

to  add  to  what  they  have  already — they  all  choose 
the  Isthmus.    And  so  do  the  gamblers."    He  ended. 

"Howdo  you  know  so  much  about  it?'*  Di  asked 
curiously.     "Has  your  father  been  out  that  way?" 

"No,"  Sam  shook  his  head.  "No,  ma'am.  He 
hasn't  never  been  to  Californy.  He  fit — fought,  I 
mean — In  Texas.  But  a  man  named  Riley  passed 
through  Warsaw,  where  we  lived,  who  had  come 
up  from  the  Isthmus.  He  hadn't  been  to  Californy 
neither  and  he  'lowed  he  wasn't  goln'.  Malary  had 
took  all  the  tuck  out  of  him.  He'd  went  down  south 
a  piece,  countin'  on  makin'  a  fortune  out  of  fruit- 
growln',  but  he  said  that  mosquitoes  so  gosh-darned 
near  et  him  up, — excuse  me  for  tellin'  it,  ma'am, — 
that  he  didn't  give  a  darn  if  the  people  up  north 
didn't  never  have  a  cocoa-nut.  He  was  plum  glad  to 
get  home  alive.  Beside,  he  saw  his  way  to  makin'  his 
pile  anyhow,  for  he  turned  his  little  fruit-steamer 
into  the  passenger  trade  to  Panama.  He  wanted 
Dad  and  me  to  go  on  her." 

"Why  didn't  you?"  asked  Di  thoughtlessly. 

"Too  expensive,  for  one  thing.  For  another.  Dad 
wasn't  no  ways  sure  we'd  make  better  time." 

"Why  not?" 

"Well,"  said  Sam,  "Mr.  Riley,  he  used  to  tell  me 
a  lot  about  it.  At  first  because  he  thought  I'd  worrit 
Dad  into  goin'  by  his  boat,  and  later,  when  he  found 
we  was  both  sot  on  the  other  route,  because  it  kind 
of  eased  his  mind  to  say  all  the  bad  things  he  could 
think  of  about  the  country  down  there." 


A  Jumping-Off  Place  11 

"Tell  me  what  he  told  you !"  DI,  her  round  chin 
propped  in  her  hand,  was  enjoying  herself  as  she 
had  not  done  since  her  father  had  repeated  fairy 
tale  after  fairy  tale,  hardly  waiting  for  her  "Tell  me 
another,  papa.    Just  one  more  before  I  go  to  bed." 

"Oh,  you  must  have  heard  all  about  it,"  Sam  sug^ 
gested  deprecatingly. 

"Not  much,"  Di  assured  him.  "All  mama  and  1 
were  told  is  that,  if  you  pay  enough,  you  get  a  won- 
derful cabin  on  a  boat  that  is  like  a  fairy  palace,  and 
you  go  to  a  place  called  Chagres ;  and  then  you  have 
a  lovely  time  crossing  the  Isthmus  to  Panama  where 
you  find  another  beautiful  steamboat  waiting  to  take 
you  to  San  Francisco  Bay." 

At  this  Sam  fairly  snorted. 

"So  that's  what  they  tell  women  folks?"  he  said 
derisively.  "Do  you  know  what  that  puts  me  i^n 
mind  of?  There  was  once  one  of  them  artist  fellers 
come  to  Warsaw  and  what  does  he  do  but  paint  a 
real  hand-made  oil  painting  of  Lize  Hutton.  Hc?mely 
as  a  mud  fence,  she  is,  with  freckles  and  red  hair — " 
Diantha  pulled  her  forgotten  sunbonnet  over  her 
curls — "but  that  picture  looked  just  like  an  angel — 
yet  it  was  like  Lize,  too." 

"Then  it's  really  different  from  the  way  they  told 
us?" 

"Sure  it's  different,"  Sam  averred.  "Maybe  you 
get  one  of  the  good  steamers  to  start  off ;  bu^  unless 
you're  born  lucky  you  strike  some  old  tub  and,  as 
ytni're  in  a  hurry  or  you  wouldn't  go  that  way  at  all. 


12  Diantha's  Quest 

you  take  it  rather  than  wait  no  one  knows  how  long, 
for  a  better  chance.  But  we'll  'low  you  get  the  good 
boat  and  that  you  ain't  sea-sick.  Then  what  hap- 
pens?" 

*Tou  get  to  Chagres,"  said  Di  eagerly. 

"Some  time,  yes.  But  before  that  youVe  got  to 
eat  every  day,  and  youVe  got  to  sleep  some ;  and 
there's  three  times  too  many  people  for  the  seats  at 
meal-times  and  whenever  they  sight  a  dolphin,  or 
think  they  do,  every  man  on  board  rushes  to  the  side 
and  fires  his  pistol  at  it." 

"What  for?"  asked  Diantha,  startled.  "Are  dbl- 
phins  dangerous?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Sam  acknowledged  honestly.  "I 
don't  rightly  know  what  dolphins  is ;  but  Mr.  Riley 
told  me  that  was  what  they  did." 

"Mama  would  hate  that,  but  I  think  the  noise 
would  be  good  for  me.  Perhaps  I'd  learn  not  to  stick 
my  fingers  in  my  ears.  And  I'd  always  have  the 
wonderful  trip  up  the  river  to  look  forward  to." 

"How  do  you  suppose  you'd  get  up  the  river?" 
Sam  doled  out  his  superior  information  in  minute 
doses. 

"I'd  engage  a  boat.    That  would  be  easy  I" 

The  *boy  s'hook  his  head. 

"Not  so  easy  as  you'd  think.  When  the  ship 
anchors,  all  of  the  men  make  a  rush  for  the  shore, 
with  their  picks  and  shovels  and  everything  they  can 
carry  on  their  backs.     The  quickest  and  strongest 


A  Jumping-Off  Place  13 

get  the  boats.    Fare,  fifteen  dollars  a  man,  and  there 
ain't  never  enough  dug-outs  to  go  'round.'* 

"And  what  happens  to  the  poor  souls  who  are  left 
behind?"  asked  Di,  not  unnaturally  startled  by  such 
a  picture. 

"I  suppose  they  sit  on  the  beach  and  watch  the 
native  men — and  women — smoke  their  big  black 
seegars!^  Sam  grinned.  "They  don't  get  up  the 
river,  not  that  day  anyway." 

"Go  right  on,"  said  Di,  half  indignantly.  "Tell 
me  everything  you  know  tha?t's  horrid." 

"You  asked  me,  and  I'm  only  tellin'  you  how  it  is," 
Sam  declared.  "It  ain't  my  fault.  At  Gatun,  where 
people  sleep  the  first  night,  there  are  no  beds,  only 
hammc/tks — ." 

"Mama  would  be  afraid  she'd  fall  •out.  She'd 
never  sleep  in  a  hammock,  I  know." 

"Sh'e'd  never  sleep  in  one  of  those  hammocks," 
Sam  agreed  grimly.  "They're  too  full  of  fleas.  And 
it  rains  and  rains,  and  the  water  comes  ^through  the 
bamboo  roofs  by  the  bucket-full.  Then,  when  you're 
'most  to  Cruces,  you  have  to  bargain  again  to  get  a 
mule  to  ride  to  Panama,  and  each  mufe  steps  'in  the 
mud-holes  other  mules  have  made,  and  the  mud 
squirts  up  till  no  one  could  see  if  you  was  white  or 
black.  And  at  Panama  there  .are  hundreds  of  people 
waiting  for  ships,  because  there  ain't  half  as  many 
of  them  sailin'  in  the  Pacific  trade  as  in  the  Atlantic 
— and  maybe  you  never  get  to  Californy  after  all !" 


CHAPTER  II 

A  MAPPE  OF  THE  LAND  OF  FAERY 

DIANTHA  CARTER  had  listened  to  Sam's 
too   truthful  tale  of  the  difficulties   of  the 
trip  across  the  Isthmus  with  mixed  feelings. 
When  his  recital  came  to  an  abrupt  stop  she  did  not 
ask  him  for  any  more  sordid  details.     Instead  she 
said,  with  gentle  positiveness  but  some  haste : 

*That's  the  way  you  -think  it  is.  Now  I'll  tell 
you  how  I  see  it.  You  go  on  a  beautiful  white  boat 
like  a  floating  pearl  and  you  sail  and  sail  over  a  blue, 
blue  sea  under  a  blue,  blue  sky  with  great  white  birds 
dipping  and  soaring  around  you.  And  the  sea  is  so 
smooth  that  no  one  even  thinks  of  being  sea-sick  but 
all  enjoy  every  minute  of  the  day.  You  watch  the 
flying-fish  that  skim  arcross  the  water  like  shining  bits 
of  silver,  and  no  one  shoots  at  the  dolphins  because 
they  love  to  see  them  racing  with  the  ship.  And 
when  a  whole  fleet  of  nautiluses  come  out  to  meet 
you—." 

**I  never  heard  of  them  before,  naughty  what- 
do-you-call-'ems,"  Sam  interrupted. 

14 


A  Mappe  of  the  Lande  of  Faery  15 

"Nautiluses?"  Di  asked,  "Oh,  they're  tiny  boats 
that  the  fairies  use  when  they  sail  to  greet  you  or  to 
wish  you  a  prosperous  journey/'  Her  tone  was  so 
matter-of-fact  that  Sam  hesitated  to  utter  the  scorn- 
ful doubts  which  her  words  had  roused,  and  Di  went 
on. 

"Their  satin  sails  shine  in  the  sun,  all  pink  and 
purple,  and  they  lead  you  into  the  harbor  safely. 
There  graceful  canoes  await  you — ." 

"I  know  there  ain't  never  enough  boats  to  go 
'round,"  Sam  muttered  obstinately,  determined  to 
cEng  to  his  superior  information.  Di  waved  her 
hand. 

"Graceful  canoes  await  those  who  wish  at  once  to 
pursue  their  journey,"  she  said,  smoothly.  "For 
those  who  remain  behind  there  is  the  hospitality 
of—." 

Here  Sam  could  no  longer  conceal  his  incredulity. 

"There  ain't  but  one  hotel !"  he  exclaimed.  "The 
Crescent  City.  It  hasn't  so  much  as  a  floor,  and  no 
food  neither." 

"Don't  interrupt  me !"  Di's  tone  was  severe.  "Re- 
member Vm  telling  you  now.  For  those  who  remain 
behind  there  is  the  hospitality  of  the  castle,"  she 
went  on  with  a  glance  of  triumph  at  Sam,  who  mut- 
tered, vanquished: 

"I  did  hear  tell  of  a  castle  on  the  bluff." 

"Of  course  you  did,"  said  Di,  serenely,  "You're 
invited  to  the  castle  where  lovely  maidens  with  beau- 


16  Diantha's  Quest 

tiful  hlack  hair  bring  golden  bowls  full  of  rose-water 
for  you  to  bathe  your  face  and  hands.  Then  they 
take  you  to  a  hall  where  you  are  served  with  a  won- 
derful banquet  and  strange  and  delicious  fruits  of 
orange,  and  rose,  and  green.  Here  the  tables  are  dec- 
orated with  flowers  such  as  you  have  never  dreamed 
of,  and  toward  sunset,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening, 
they  set  you  on  your  way  in  the  castle  galley  with 
gilded  awnings  and  gay  floating  streamers,  and  at- 
tendants who  wave  gre^t  soft  feather  fans  and  sing 
to  you  as  you  float  up  the  stream  in  the  moonlight. 
And,  when  the  time  comes  to  take  the  trail  to 
Panama,  you  find  waiting  for  you  white  mules  with 
silken  trappings  carrying  litters  fit  for  a  princess  to 
ride  in.  And  if  there  was  mud  you  would  never 
know  it,  for  you  would  be  high  above  it,  watching 
the  funny  monkeys  and  emerald  parrots  and  butter- 
flies like  all  the  jewels  Cortes  ever  carried  back  to 
Spain  in  his  treasure-ships/* 

"I  never  -heard  tell  of  him  before,"  said  Sam, 
deeply  interested.    *'How  do  you  know  such  things  ?" 

Di  smiled  a  wise  smile. 

"I  know  I  I  know!"  she  chanted.  "I  know  more 
than  I  can  tell.  About  great  galleons  full  of  gol'd 
and  jewels.  About  rivers  of  pearl  and  mountains 
of  emerald.  About  Panama  with  its  ancient 
churches  and  cathedrals,  its  quaint  houses  with 
brightly  painted  verandas,  like  pretty  bird-cages 
hanging  from  the  walls.     About  the  richly  colored 


A  Mappe  of  the  Lande  of  Faery  17 

awnings  that  stretch  from  roof  to  roof  to  shade  the 
narrow  streets  from  the  hot  sun.  I  know !  I  know ! 
But  I  do  not  tell  all  I  know,*'  she  ended  provokingly. 

"By  jings,  I  believe  youVe  been  there  !*'  cried  Sam. 
"You  couldn't  make  all  that  up." 

To  this  Di  made  no  answer.  For  the  moment  it 
wafs  her  tricksy  fancy  to  be  mysterious.  Her  mother, 
who  never  treated  her  flights  of  imagination  ser- 
iously, had  of  late  been  her  only  audience,  while  her 
father,  who  followed  when  he  did  not  lead  her  into 
the  land  of  make-believe,  was  far  away. 

But  upon  Sam  Brand  the  girl's  fantasies  made  a 
deep  impression.  He  was  at  first  inclined  to  be 
scornful  of  her  words,  but,  as  he  listened  and 
watched  the  glowing  expressions  on  her  face,  he 
seemed  to  see  pictures  in  his  mind.  Something  within 
him  stirred  that  had  never  been  awakened  by  the 
hum-drum  life  of  the  small  western  town  in  which  he 
had  spent  his  thirteen  years. 

So  far,  Sam's  very  practical  existence  had  con- 
cerned itself  almost  wholly  with  the  ways  and  means 
of  earning  a  scanty  livelihood.  The  people  he  had 
known  before  starting  on  this  wonderful  journey  had 
talked  chiefly  of  their  cattle  and  their  crops.  Of 
story  books  he  knew  nothing,  and  when  the  Cali- 
fornia gold  discoveries  gave  rise  to  exaggerated  tales 
which  were  all  too  readily  believed,  the  boy's  starved 
imagination  expanded  so  quickly  that  he  was  more 
than  ready  to  follow  Diantha  Carter  into  any  realms 
of  make-believe  whither  she  chose  to  lead  him. 


18  Diantha's  Quest 

Moreover  he  recognized  that  this  girl  had  an  edu- 
cation which  he  lacked.  There  were  certain  refine- 
ments of  speech  and  manner  that  showed  a  breeding 
he  recognized  but  could  not  name.  Thi's  gave  her  a 
certain  authority  in  Sam's  eyes,  and,  ahhough  in 
practical  affairs  he  had  full  confidence  in  himself, 
here  was  a  matter  outside  of  his-expenence.  He  was 
almost  ready  to  accept  all  that  she  might  say  without 
question.  This  new  world  of  which  Di  had  just 
shown  him  the  threshold  was  strange  and  alluring 
and  the  boy  began  to  doubt  where  fact  ended  and 
fancy  began. 

**She  might  be  one  of  them  fairies  herself,  for  all 
I  know,"  he  thought. 

Di  also  had  been  receiving  impressions  and,  al- 
though she  could  not  have  put  this  clearly  in  words, 
divined  that  Sam  Brand's  mind  was  fallow  ground 
in  whrch  she  might  sow  some  seeds;  whereupon  she 
accepted -him  joyfully  as  a  new  plaything. 

"He'll  never,  never  know  how  mu-ch  I  really  be- 
Ueve  of  what  I'm  telling,  and  it  will  be  lots  of  fun," 
she  thought,  and  then,  whi^msically,  *'I  wonder  if  I 
know  myself?" 

"I  got  to  be  gettin'  back  to  Dad,"  Sam  said,  with 
a  sudden  change  of  subject.  *'If  we're  goin'  to  cor- 
rect your  map  we'd  better  get  at  it." 

He  took  his  booklet  from  her  and  opened  it  at  the 
title-page. 

"Read  that,"  he  suggested,  "then  you'll  see  it's 
what  I  told  you,  and  it  must  be  right !" 


POCMET  mm  lu  imlFOBNIA 


A  CHAPTER  ON  COLO  FORMATIONS: 


A  Mappe  of  the  Lande  of  Faery  19 

The 

Pocket  Guide  to  California 
a 

Sea  and  Land  Route  Book 

containing 

a  description  of  the  El  Dorado;  its  Geographical  Position; 

People,  Climate,  Soil,  Productions,  Agricultural 

Resources,  Commercial  Advantages, 

and  Mineral  Wealth: 

with 

a  Chapter  on  Gold  Formations; 

also  the 

Congressional  Map, 

and 

The  Various  Routes  and  Distances  to  the  Gold  Regions. 

To  which  is  added  the 

Gold  Hunter's  Memorandum  and  Pocket  Directory. 

By  J.  E.  Sherwood 

"Westward  the  Course  of  Empire  takes  its  way."  Berkeley. 

New  York 

J.  E.  Sherwood,  Publisher  and  Proprietor 

For  sale  by 

H.  Long  &  Brother,  46  Ann  Street,  Bereford  &  Co., 

Astor  House,  and  the  principal  Booksellers  throughout 

the  Union 

California,  Berford  &  Co.  and  C.  W.  Holden, 

San  Francisco 

1849 

**It  seems  a  good  deal  to  put  into  one  thin  little 
book,"  Di  remarked  a  moment  later. 


20  Diantha*s  Quest 

"It's  all  there,  just  like  it  says,*'  Sam  assured  her 
solemnly.  "And  I've  read  every  word  of  it!  Now 
here's  the  map,"  he  went  on,  spreading  it  open  before 
her.    "You  can  see  it  ain't  like  yours." 

"Of  course  not,"  Di  agreed.  "Maps  of  different 
places  aren't  the  same,  silly!" 

Sam's  mouth  dropped  open  a  little.  He  was  not 
used  to  being  called  "silly"  by  one  of  the  weaker  sex. 
Indeed,  had  it  been  a  boy  who  so  named  him,  his 
retort  would  have  been  both  prompt  and  vigorous. 
As  it  was  he  stood  speechless  while  Diantha  laughed 
at  him. 

"You  thought  no  one  would  bother  now-a-days 
to  draw  a  map  of  anything  but  the  trails  to  the  gold 
fields,"  she  said  briskly.  "Well,  most  people 
wouldn't,  but  my  map  is  of  something  much  more 
wonderful."  Provokingly,  with  considerable  care, 
she  erased  the  last  traces  of  it  as  she  spoke. 

"More  wonderful  than  the  diggin's!"  Sam  was 
thoroughly  sceptical  now, — "There  ain't  no  such 
place !" 

"Oh,  yes,  there  is !"  Di  said  positively.  "A  beauti- 
ful land,  with  lilies  of  ivory  and  birds  like  flying 
gems;  where  every  wind  is  scented  by  the  flowers 
and  full  of  the  music  of  the  birds — " 

"Are — are  you  talkin'  of  Heaven?"  Sam  asked 
diffidently. 

"No,  no,"  Di  assured  him.  "I'm  talking  of  the 
place  weWe  trying  to  go  to." 

"Are  you  goin'  somewhere?"     The  boy  was  sur- 


A  Mappe  of  the  Lande  of  Faery  21 

prised.  Whole  families,  journeying  the  trail  to- 
gether and  carrying  all  their  worldly  possessions 
with  them,  were  not  an  unusual  sight,  but  these 
people  were  not  of  the  class  to  which  his  new  ac- 
quaintance obviously  belonged,  and  he  had  taken  it 
for  granted  that  she  had  wandered  over  to  see  the 
camp  from  a  substantial  home  nearby,  or  -had  come 
across  the  river  from  the  town  of  St.  Joseph  to 
visit. the  crowded  jumping-off  place  which,  thus  early 
in  the  year,  was  still  a  novelty. 

Suddenly  Di  started  to  her  feet  as  if  a  recollection 
had  just  struck  her. 

"I  must  hurry  back  to  Mama,'*  she  said.  "By 
this  time  she  probably  thinks  Vm  lost  and  has  poor 
Uncle  Toby  runnin*  everywhere  hunting  for  me." 

As  if  to  justify  this  prophecy  a  little  bent,  old 
negro  came  toward  them. 

"Here  he  is  now!"  she  exclaimed,  then  called, 
"Are  you  looking  for  me.  Uncle  Toby?" 

"  'Clare  to  goodness.  Miss  Di,"  the  old  man  ex- 
claimed as  he  took  off  his  hat  and  wiped  his  shiny 
bald 'head  with  an  enormous  bandana  handkerchief. 
"Your  ma  she's  jest  havin'  conniption  fits  over  you." 

"Nonsense^  Uncle  Toby.  Mama  wouldn't  have 
a  conniption  if  there  was  an  earthquake  and  a  cyclone 
and  an  eruption  of  Vesuvius  all  at  the  same  time. 
She's  the  very  calmest  person  I  know,"  Diantha 
asserted. 

"Sttrc  she  is  ca'm,"  the  old  man  agreed.     "Us 


22  Diantha's  Quest 

Carters  has  ca'm  conniptions.  That's  the  kind  we 
has.    Us  Carters — " 

"Fm  ready 'anyhow,"  Di  cut  into  the  flow  of  his 
eloquence,  for  she  knew  that  once  started  on  the 
remarkable  qualities  of  "Us  Carters''  Uncle  Toby 
would  discourse  unendingly.  "Good-by,  Sam,  I  hope 
I'll  see  you  again." 

"Good-by!"  Sam,  had  he  been  given  to  "self- 
analysis  would  fiave  been  surprised  at  his  regret  at 
losing  so  new  an  acquaintance.  "I  dunno  -about 
seein'  me  again.  Dad  he  alms  to  tie-up  to  the  first 
party  he  likes  the  looks  of.  I  reckon  we'll  be  steppin' 
out  on  fhe  trail  tomorrow  or  next  day." 

Diantha  shook  her  head  in  her  own  provoking 
way. 

"I'll  see  you  again,"  she  declared,  and  moved  off 
beside  the  old  negro  who  looked  strangely  oiit  of 
place  in  the  flannel  shirt,  butternut  trowsers  tucked 
into  cowhide  boots  and  the  wide  hat  of  the  plainsman. 

Sam  stood  looking  after  the  two  reflectively,  and 
while  he  gazed  Di  turned. 

"You  know  I  have  a  map  of  my  own.  I'm  going 
on  a  journey,  too,"  she  called. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  Sam  demanded. 

Her  answer  came  back  to  him  clear  and  distinct 
through  the  still  air. 

"I'm  going  to  Fairy-land  I"  she  said,  and  that  was 
all. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  BIDWELL's  BAR  EXPRESS 

DIANTHA  and  Uncle  Toby  moved  slowly 
through  the  camp,  picking  their  way  care- 
fully amid  a  litter  of  miscellaneous  objects 
scattered  on  the  ground  about  the  wagons.  A  fever- 
ish activity  pervaded  this  curious  settlement,  and 
above  .the  babble  of  gossip  one  word  seemed  to  be  on 
every  .tongue.  Gold  I  Apparently  it  began  and  ended 
every  sentence.  The  daily  tasks  were  performed  for 
but  one  object.  The  only  news  in  which  any  mem- 
bers of  that  excited  band  were  interested  had  to  do 
with  gold.  From  early  morning  till  the  camp 
quieted  for  the  night  the  one  topic  of  conversation 
was  gold,  and  in  their  sleep  these  impatient  emi- 
grants even  dreamed  of  the  precious  metal.  They 
awoke  only  to  take  up  once  more  the  endless  discus- 
sion of  the  discovery  that  had  set  them  upon  a  path 
filled  with  unknown  dangers. 

Hour  by  hour  fresh  arrivals  from  the  east  added 
to  the  numbers  of  this  heterogeneous  assemblage 
and,  as  each  new  party  came  to  a  halt,  they  cried 
aloud  for  the  latest  word  from  the  gold  fields. 

And  no  tale  was  too  fantastic  for  belief.     Ex- 

23 


24  Diantha's  Quest 

travagant  rumors  of  impossible  discoveries  were 
accepted  at  their  face  value,  and,  in  his  heart,  every 
man  was  certain  that  untold  riches  were  to  be  his 
portion  when  once  he  reached  the  California  foot- 
hills. 

The  perils  of  the  long  journey  ahead  of  them; 
the  privations  and  fatigue  of  the  desert  marches, 
the  pain  and  toil  of  climbing  well-nigh  pathless 
mountain  ranges;  the  agony  of  the  blistering  heat 
of  the  prairies ;  and  the  ever-present  fear  of  snow  in 
the  Sierras ;  these  dangers  lost  their  menace,  because 
none  doubted  that  when  their  goal  was  reached,  gold 
was  to  be  had  in  abundance  by  the  simple  process  of 
picking  it  up  from  the  encrusted  ground.  Who  would 
hesitate  to  sacrifice  everything  or  brave  any  hard- 
ship to  reach  so  promising  a  land? 

To  the  west  all  eyes  were  turned.  From  their 
camp  the  path  lay  through  a  wilderness  inhabited 
only  by  savages,  and  against  these  and  the  hazards  of 
the  road,  parties  were  formed  for  mutual  protection. 
Wagon  trains,  under  the  command  of  elected 
leaders,  departed  almost  daily,  and  at -this  and  other 
"jumping-off"  places  such  trains  were  organized. 

So  far,  the  Carter  outfit  had  failed  to  measure 
up  to  the  requirements  insisted  upon  by  the  leaders 
of  these  adventurous  bands,  and  Mrs.  Carter  had 
begun  to  fear  that  they  would  be  left  behind.  In 
all  her  carefully  planned  arrangements  she  had  not 
foreseen  the  difiiculties  that  now  confronted  her,  and 


The  Bidwell's  Bar  Express  25 

each  day's  delay  diminished  her  store  of  provisions 
alarmingly. 

"I  have  had  word  that  a  man  named  Yerber  is 
jumping  off  tomorrow  with  a  train  of  thirty  wago^is," 
she  told  Di  as  the  girl  and  Uncle  Toby  reached  the 
white,  canvas-topped  wagon  which  constituted  their 
home.    "Have  you  heard  anything  of  it?'' 

"There's  a  lot  of  talk,"  Di  replied.  "They  say 
this  Yerber  has  been  over  the  trail  before  and  knows 
all  about  it." 

"Do  you  think  they  would  let  us  go  with  them?" 
the  mother  inquired  anxiously. 

"It  won't  do  any  harm  to  ask,"  Di  said,  briskly. 
She  was  as  impatient  as  her  mother  to  be  upon  the 
way.  "I  think  I  know  where  his  outfit  is.  Let's  try 
to  see  him  this  afternoon." 

They  set  out  later  on,  pdcking  a  path  between 
tents,  prairie  schooners  and  farm  carts  and  asking 
a  question  here  and  there,  until  they  reached  the 
object  of  their  search. 

This  was  a  light  wagon  made  with  a  bed  of  sheet- 
iron  shaped  like  a  boat  and  intended  for  just  that 
use  when  swollen  streams  forced  the  travelers  to 
ferry  their  goods.  It  was  covered  with  a  top  of 
soiled  canvas  and  painted  in  red  upon  the  side  were 
the  words,  "Express  to  Bidwell's  Bar."  Apparently 
the  outfit  was  deserted,  although  the  camp  stove 
burned  merrily. 

"He's  gone  for  water,"  said  Mrs.  Carter,  noting 
that  the  pails  were  missing  from  their  place  beside 


26  Diantha's  Quest 

the    tar   bucket   which   hung   between    the    wheels. 
"We'll  wait." 

"Be  you  any  kin  to  Yerber?*'  asked  a  young  man 
who  slouched  up  to  them  with  the  free  and  uncon- 
ventional manners  of  the  camp. 

"No,  Fm  Mrs.  Carter/*  that  lady  answered 
pleasantly.  "I  wanted  to  see  if  Captain  Yerber 
would  let  us  join  his  wagon-train." 

"I  dunno  about  that,"  the  man  returned  doubt- 
fully. "Yerber  ain't  one  to  take  on  nobody  that 
can't  keep  up.  He's  made  the  trip  before,  he  has, 
and  he  means  to  be  over  the  mountains  before  snow 
flies." 

Three  or  four  other  men  came  drifting  over  from 
nearby  wagons,  full  of  curiosity  to  know  what  two 
females  might  want  with  the  redoubtable  Yerber. 

"Yerber  don't  calc'la'te  to  have  this  no  Donner 
party,  ma'am,"  one  of  them  volunteered,  and  then 
noting  Mrs.  Carter's  blank  expression,  added,  "Ain't 
you  ever  heard  of  the  Donners?" 

Mrs.  Carter  shook  her  head. 

**Don't  that  beat  all?"  he  went  on,  in  a  sort  of 
sing-song.  "Why  I  reckoned  the  hull  world  knew  of 
the  Donners.  They  was  a  big  train,  ma'am,  what 
was  caught  in  the  mountains.  They  say  you  can  see 
to  this  day  how  deep  the  snow  was,  because  the 
stumps  of  the  trees  they  cut  down  for  fire-wood  and 
huts  is  standin'  twenty-five  foot  up  in  the  air.  One 
feller  told  me  he  didn't  believe  it  till  he  climbed  up 
and  saw  the  axe  marks." 


The  BidweU's  Bar  Express  27 

"That's  dreadful  I"  Mrs.  Carter  murmured,  with 
difficulty  suppressing  a  shudder. 

"You  bet  it  was !"  another  man  declared.  "An*  it 
all  come  o'  takin'  on  anybody  what  wanted  to  jin'e 
the  outfit.  You  won't  find  Yerber  bein'  caught  like 
that.    He  aims  to  travel,  once  he  starts." 

"It's  a  man's  job,  ma'am,"  one  of  the  by-standers 
put  in,  not  unkindly.  "I  left  my  women  folks  back 
home.    That's  the  place  for  'em." 

"But  I  must  go,"  Mrs.  Carter  said  positively. 
"Can  any  of  you  tell  me  whether  Captain  Yerber 
will  be  here  soon  or  not?" 

"He'll  be  here  pretty  quick,  I'm  thinkin',"  was  the 
answer  from  a  man  who  eyed  the  hot  stove  with  an 
amused  smile  on  his  face.  "If  he  don't  come  soon 
his  sinkers  will  be  charcoal.  I  can  smell  'em  burnin' 
now." 

With  an  exclamation  Mrs.  Carter  ran  to  the  stove 
and  threw  the  oven  door  open. 

"Make  some  place  ready  to  put  these!"  she  said 
peremptorily.  "They'll  be  as  heavy  as  lead  if  we 
let  them  stand  in  this  cold  wind." 

Immediately  the  men  fell  into  confusion.  They 
argued  of  this  place  and  that  till  Di  grew  impatient. 

"A  man  can  imagine  only  one  place  for  biscuits," 
she  said  contemptuously,  "and  that's  in  his  mouth. 
Here,  Mama,  put  them  in  here." 

Impulsively  she  threw  -back  the  lid  of  the  wagon 
box  and  then  stood  speechless,  looking  down  at 
something  that  lay  within. 


28  Diantha's  Quest 

One  of  the  men  removed  the  hot  pan  from  the 
oven,  carried  it  to  the  box  and  clapped  down  the 
cover. 

"It  takes  a  girl  to  think  of  a  thing  like  that,"  he 
said  with  the  utmost  good-temper,  "and  here  comes 
Captain  Yerber  now.     I  can  hear  him  singin'." 

Indeed  so  could  anyone  else  who  was  not  stone 
deaf.  Captain  Yerber,  evidently  in  the  best  of 
humors,  was  coming  up  from  the  water  with  a  full 
pail  in  each  hand,  trolling  out  "Oh  Susannah"  in  a 
voice  that  was  seemingly  more  pleasing  to  the  singer 
than  it  was  to  his  hearers. 

"FU  scrape  the  mountains  clean,  old  girl ! 

ril  drain  the  rivers  dry. 

I'm  o£F  for  California,  Susannah,  don't  you  cry! 

Oh,  Susannah  don't  you  cry  for  me. 

I'm  o£F  to  California  with  my  washbowl  on  my  knee." 

He  stopped  abruptly  at  the  sight  of  the  gathering 
by  his  wagon  and  set  down  his  buckets. 

"See  who's  here  1"  he  said  jocularly. 

"Lady  to  see  you,  Captain  Yerber,"  one  of  the 
men  explained,  then  thinking  to  make  it  easier  for 
Mrs.  Carter,  he  added,  friendlily,  "wants  to  join  our 
wagon  train." 

"How  many  in  your  party?"  Yerber  spoke  curtly. 

"Three,"  replied  Mrs.  Carter.  "My  daughter 
and  I,  and  Uncle  Toby." 

"\^at's  your  outfit?" 


The  Bidwell's  Bar  Express  29 

"Three  strong  white  mules.  A  new  light  wagon. 
Enough  food  to  take  us  to  the  Mormons  where  we 
intend  to  buy  more.''  Mrs.  Carter's  heart  was 
beating  fast.  So  many  trains  had  refused  to  allow 
them  to  join,  fearing  to  be  responsible  for  a  woman 
and  girl  who  had  no  real  protector,  that  it  was  hard 
now  to  conceal  her  dread  lest  this  should  prove  an- 
other such  disappointment. 

"Say,  Captain,"  one  of  the  onlookers  drawled,  "I 
think  I  know  their  outfit.  You  campin'  over  on  the 
sand  bar?"  he  asked  turning  to  Mrs.  Carter. 

"Yes,"  the  lady  acknowledged,  not  knowing 
whether  the  man  would  prove  a  friend  or  foe. 

*It's  the  best  little  outfit  on  this  side  of  the  river," 
the  man  declared  heartily.  "I'd  like  mighty  well  to 
buy  your  mules,  ma'am, — or  swap  'em  if  you'd  con- 
sider a  swap." 

"I'm  sure  we  need  them  even  more  than  you  do," 
Mrs.  Carter  returned  with  a  smile,  his  words  in  her 
favor  giving  her  a  hope  that  at  last  she  would  have 
her  way.  "When  do  we  start?"  she  added  daringly. 

"The  Yerber  wagon  train  aims  to  jump  off 
tomorrow  morning  at  sun-up,"  Captain  Yerber  said 
non-commitally,  "but  I  ain't  easy  in  my  mind  about 
you  yet,  ma'am.  Where's  your  men  folks  ?  Why  do 
you  come  to  me?  Can't  this  uncle  of  yours  speak 
for  himself?    Is  he  sick?" 

"He's  not  my  uncle,  he's  my  servant,"  Mrs.  Carter 
replied,  as  indifferently  as  she  could  manage ;  but  she 


30  Diantha's  Quest 

had  dreaded  the  question,  knowing  the  effect  her 
answer  had  produced  theretofore. 

Yerber  gave  a  long-drawn  whistle. 

"You  mean  to  tell  me,"  he  exclaimed,  "that  you 
and  this  Kttle  girl  here  aim  to  get  to  Californy  with- 
out a  man  belongin'  to  you?    Tain*t  possible  !'* 

"But  we  have  Uncle  Toby,'*  Mrs.  Carter  insisted, 
trying  vainly  to  control  the  tremor  in  her  voice.  "He 
is  strong  and  well.  We  should  not  be  a  burden  to 
anyone." 

There  was  an  unmistakable  murmur  of  sympathy 
among  the  rough  men  forming  the  group.  They 
noted  Mrs.  Carter's  distress  and  their  hearts  were 
touched.  One  after  another  put  in  a  word  for  the 
"iittle  woman,"  as  they  mentally  called  her. 

"Give  her  a  chance.  Captain.  A  man's  a  man 
even  if  he  is  hired.    He  can  shoot  a  gun,  I  reckon." 

"She's  got  a  right  smart  outfit  I  will  say.  She 
won't  have  no  trouJ)le  keepin'  up." 

"And  say.  Cap,  she  saved  your  sinkers !  They'd 
a-been  burned  blacker  'an  your  off  mare  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  her." 

"My  sinkers!"  Yerber  fairly  shouted,  dashing  to 
the  stove.    "I  clean  forgot  'em." 

"Your  biscuits  are  quite  safe.  Captain  Yerber," 
Mrs.  Carter  said,  quick  to  take  advantage  of  the 
situation.  "You  see  even  a  lone  woman  has  her 
uses." 

"I  ain't  denyin'  it,  ma'am,"  Yerber  returned,  not 
ungraciously.     The  men  about  him  were  plainly  on 


The  BidwelPs  Bar  Express  31 

Mrs.  Carter^s  side  and  he  was  eager  to  retain  his 
popularity.  Moreover  he  had  no  great  fear  that 
one  wagon  with  good  animals  would  delay  the  strong 
party  he  had  assembled.  If  he  accepted  them,  and 
worse  came  to  worst,  he  could  combine  the  Carter 
outfit  with  one  of  the  others. 

**Then  you'll  let  us  go  with  you?"  Mrs.  Carter 
asked  hopefully. 

"Well,  well,''  Yerber  began  and  seemed  about  to 
commit  himself,  when  one  of  the  bystanders  spoke 
again,  thinking,  doubtless,  to  clinch  the  matter  for 
the  lady. 

**Mrs.  Carter's  outfit  will  make  thirty-three. 
Captain,  and  everyone  'lows  there's  luck  in  odd 
numbers." 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Yerber  had  heard  the 
name  of  the  woman  who  stood  before  him  and,  at 
the  mention  of  it,  both  Di  and  her  mother,  watch- 
ing the  man's  face  intently,  saw  a  change  of  expres- 
sion come  into  the  small,  close-set  eyes.  The  look  of 
tolerant  good  humor  gave  place  to  a  shifty  glance 
of  cunning. 

"I  ain't  said  she  was  goin',"  Yerber  told  the  man 
who  had  just  spoken.  "Leastways  not  in  my  train. 
I  want  to  know  more  about  this  here  Uncle  Toby  of 
yours,  ma'am,"  he  went  on  addressing  Mrs.  Carter. 
"I  never  heard  tell  of  a  lady  callin'  her  hired  help 
*uncle'." 

"Oh,  that  is  the  custom  in  Virginia,"  Mrs.  Carter 
replied.    She  felt  that  for  some  reason  Yerber  had 


32  Diantha's  Quest 

suddenly  changed  his  mind ;  and  her  heart  sank  with 
disappointment.  Nevertheless  she  tried  not  to  show 
her  emotion.  "You  see,"  she  explained  with  a  smile, 
"Uncle  Toby  was  born  on  the  Carter  place.  He  has 
always  belonged  to  the  family,  and — ." 

"You  mean  he's  a  slave?"  Yerber  cut  in  harshly. 
He  felt  sure  of  his  position  now,  and  began  to 
bluster.  "Well,  ma'am,  I  don't  hold  with  slave- 
ownin' — ." 

"But  he  is  not  a  slave  I"  Mrs.  Carter  interrupted 
quickly.  "He  is  as  free  as  we  are.  He  has  been  with 
us  in  many  of  the  free  states  and  could  do  exactly 
as  he  pleased.  But  he  did  not  wish  to  leave  us.  He 
is  our  friend." 

"That's  all  very  well  to  say,"  Yerber  retorted, 
"but,  whether  it's  true  or  not,  we  ain't  aimin'  to 
take  blacks  in  this  outfit.  And  what's  more,  ma'am, 
if  you'll  listen  to  my  advice,  and  it's  kindly  meant, 
this  country  ain't  fit  for  fine  ladies  that  travel  with 
their  slaves  or  servants.  You'd  better  go  back  to 
Virginy  where  you  belong.  Californy  don't  want 
you." 

He  half  turned  away  as  if  the  matter  were  at  an 
end,  but  one  of  the  men  stopped  him. 

"Now  see  here.  Captain — ,"  he  began  in  a  con- 
ciliatory tone,  but  Yerber  wheeled  on  him  with  a 
snarl. 

"Am  I  mistook?"  he  asked  angrily.  "I  thought 
you  had  elected  me  captain  o'  this  outfit!" 

"So  we  did,  but—." 


•IN  YOUR  WAGON-BOX,  BESIDES  MY  FATHER'S  GLOVES' 


The  Bidweirs  Bar  Express  33 

"There  ain't  goin'  to  be  no  buts !"  Yerber  went  on, 
raising  his  voice.  "It's  me  that  has  crossed  the  trail 
to  Californy  and  knows  its  kinks.  It's  me  that  has 
promised  to  get  you  through  in  record  time!  If 
any  o'  you  think  o'  bein'  cap'n  and  mean  to  have 
the  pickin'  of  the  party,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to 
notify  me  legal.  Till  that  time,  what  I  say  goes. 
Understand  that!" 

Once  more  he  turned  on  his  heel,  but  once  more 
he  was  stopped. 

"You're  forgetting  your  biscuits,  Captain  Yerber," 
Di  said  politely.  "You  don't  even  know  where  they 
are. 

"Where  are  they?"  he  demanded  looking  down  at 
the  small  figure  before  him. 

"They're  in  your  wagon-box,"  she  returned,  and 
throwing  back  her  bonnet  she  looked  him  unflinching- 
ly in  the  eyes,  "beside  my  father's  gloves,"  she  added, 
raising  her  voice  so  that  all  might  hear. 

For  an  instant  a  profound  silence  fell  upon  the 
little  group.  Thieves  were  given  short  shrift  in  the 
days  of  '49,  and  there  was  a  sharp  challenge  in  the 
girl's  tone.     Every  eye  was  fixed  on  Yerber. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  cried,  taking  a  step 
toward  her.  "I  know  nothing  about  your  father's 
gloves." 

"I  mean  exactly  what  I  say,"  Di  returned  steadily, 
facing  the  angry  man.  "My  father's  gloves  are  in 
your  wagon-box." 


34  Diantha's  Quest 

"You  must  be  mistaken,  Di/*  her  mother  mur- 
mured anxiously. 

"I  am  not  mistaken,"  Di  insisted,  her  eyes  still 
upon  the  man.  "I  saw  them.  They  are  there  now. 
Where  did  you  get  them,  Captain  Yerber?'* 

*'What  business  have  you  a-pokin'  in  my  wagon- 
box?"  Yerber  demanded  furiously;  but  the  other 
men  stopped  him  at  once. 

"Stow  that,  Yerber,"  one  of  them  said.  "Your 
box  was  only  opened  to  put  your  own  sinkers  in.  If 
the  girl  saw  what  was  in  it  she  couldn't  help  that. 
Now  what  about  those  gloves  ?  We're  all  askin'  you, 
ain't  we,  mates?" 

"Sure !"  the  others  answered  unanimously. 

"See 'here,"  said  Yerber,  "I  don't  mean  to  pay  any 
attention  to  silly  questions.  Am  I  your  captain  or 
ain't  I?" 

"You're  our  captain  from  the  minute  we  jump  off 
at  sun-up  tomorrow,"  the  spokesman  answered 
steadily,  "and  we  ain't  doubtin'  now  that  you  can 
tell  the  little  lady  where  you  got  her  pa's  gloves." 

"You  talk  as  if  there  wasn't  but  one  pair  of  gloves 
in  the  world,"  Yerber  snarled.  "The  gloves  in  there 
are  mine.    Make  no  mistake  about  that!" 

A  trifle  daunted,  the  spokesman  turned  inquiringly 
to  Di,  who  replied  disdainfully: 

"What  right  has  he  to  gloves  with  the  initials  C. 
C.  C.  embroidered  on  them?  Isn't  his  name 
Yerber?" 

"She  sort  o'  has  him  there,"  one  of  the  bystanders 


The  Bidweirs  Bar  Express  35 

whispered  to  another,  hitching  his  pistol  into  a  use- 
ful position. 

But  Yerber  had  had  time  to  collect  himself.  He 
had  been  in  numerous  tight  corners  in  his  day.  This 
was  no  worse  than  many  others  that  a  glib  tongue 
and  ready  bluster  had  gotten  him  out  of. 

"As  it  happens  my  name  ain't  Yerber.  It's  Cyrus 
C.  Coleman.  Round  the  Bay  they  call  me  Yerba 
Buena  Cy  and  that's  where  you  get  the  Terber' 
from,'*  he  grinned.  "C.  C.  C.  Them's  my  letters 
Missy." 

The  men  looked  from  one  to  another,  puzzled; 
but  Di  never  faltered. 

"After  all,  the  name  doesn't  matter,"  she  said. 
"The  point  is  that  those  gloves  are  my  father's,  and 
I  can  prove  it."  She  turned  to  the  little  crowd  who 
surrounded  the  strange  contestants,  "I  embroidered 
them  myself.  Not  very  well,  of  course,  for  I  wasn't 
as  old  as  I  am  now,  but  my  blue  silk  gave  out — and 
you  will  find  that  the  last  C  on  the  left  glove  is  done 
in  purple." 

"She  saw  it  when  she  opened  the  box!"  shouted 
Yerber. 

"I  did,"  Di  acknowledged.  "That  was  what  made 
me  so  sure.  But  there  is  still  another  proof,  and 
everyone  here  can  tell  you  that  I  never  touched  the 
gloves.  Look  inside  that  left  glove  and,  on  the 
gauntlet,  beside  the  letters,  you  will  find  three  little 
brown  spots,  like  this."    She  stooped  and  made  three 


36  Dlantha's  Quest 

holes  in  the  ground  with  her  finger.  .  •  .  "It's  blood 
from  a  needle-prick." 

With  an  assumption  of  curiosity  Yerber  himself 
took  the  gloves  out  of  the  wagon-box  and  examined 
them.  Then  he  showed  them  to  the  others,  his 
tone  entirely  changed. 

"Don't  it  beat  all  how  things  happen?"  he  said 
genially.  "Look,  mates!  The  young  gal's  right. 
Here's  the  spots  just  as  she  said.'* 

The  men  hung  back  with  more  than  a  little  reserve 
in  their  manner,  and  Yerber  turned  to  the  Carters, 
holding  out  the  gloves  with  an  air  of  bluff  frankness. 
"You  must  take  these,  Missy,  and  give  'em  to  your 
pa  with  my  best  regards.  Yerba  Buena  Cy  don't 
want  nobody  else's  property.  That's  one  thing 
sure!" 

"Then  you  know  my  father  and  got  the  gloves 
from  him?"  Diantha  asked,  still  fixing  him  with  her 
steady  gaze. 

"Lor'  love  you,  no,"  Yerber  answered.  "I  bought 
'em  off  a  greaser  for  two  ounces.  They  was  fine 
lookin'  gloves.  I  was  comin'  back  rich  by  way  of 
the  Isthmus  and  aimin'  to  make  a  show.  But  the 
card-sharps  cleaned  me  out  on  the  run  home,  so  I've 
got  to  start  right  over  again.  Anyway,  you  take 
'em,  Missy.    Tm  pleased  to  hand  'em  back  to  you." 

Although  unsatisfied  Diantha  accepted  the  gloves. 

"Then  you  don't  know  my  father?"  she  questioned 
slowly. 


The  Bidweirs  Bar  Express  37 

**No,  Missy,  least  ways,  what  did  you  say  his 
name  was.  Carman?" 

"No.  Carter.     Charles  Carter  Carter." 

Yerber  shook  his  head. 

"Never  heard  th^  name  before.  Not  that  I  re- 
member, and  IVe  a  good  memory  for  names,  too. 
Now  how  do  you  suppose  that  Mexican  got  those 
gloves?  Of  course  it  ain't  in  nature  to  believe  that 
a  greaser  came  by  anything  honest;  but  your  pa 
might  just  have  happened  to  sell  'em  to  him,  mightn't 
he?" 

"No,"  Mrs.  Carter  declared  positively.  "He 
wouldn't  sell  a  thing  his  daughter  had  worked  for 
him." 

"Most  like  the  Mex  stole  'em,"  Yerber  agreed. 

"Where  did  you  say  you  met  this  Mexican?"  Mrs. 
Carter  now  asked. 

"Oh,  I  met  up  with  him  at  Sutter's.  That's  a  mile 
or  two  from  Sacramento  City,"  Yerber  answered 
readily.  "There's  a  sort  of  Greaser-town  down  the 
river  a  piece;  but  I  wouldn't  know  him  again  if  I 
fell  over  him.  All  these  Span-i-ards  look  alike  to 
me. 

He  took  out  his  biscuits  and  shut  his  wagon-box 
with  a  bang. 

"It's  time  I  had  my  supper,"  he  said  with  an  air  of 
finality. 

"And  you  positively  refuse  to  let  us  join  your 
train?"  Mrs.  Carter  asked. 

"Cafn't  be  did,  lady,"  he  replied.     "I'm  captain 


38  Diantha's  Quest 

of  this  party,  and  every  wagon  in  it  has  been  picked 
because  it  was  light  and  fast  and  able  to  keep  its 
own  end  up  without  askin'  favors.  We  aim  to  get  to 
Californy  and  the  diggin's  long  before  snowfall. 
rU  take  no  one  on  as  might  hold  us  back."  He 
turned  without  further  words  and  began  the  prepara- 
tion of  his  supper. 

Di  laid  a  hand  on  her  mother's  arm. 

"It's  not  worth  while,  Mama,"  she  whispered. 
"Let  us  go." 

The  little  crowd  parted  to  allow  them  to  pass. 
Now  that  the  matter  was  settled  the  emigrants  re- 
garded the  Carters  shyly.  Everything  seemed  to  be 
all  right;  the  judgment  of  more  than  one  man  pres- 
ent coincided  with  their  captain's,  yet  they  all  felt 
sorry  for  the  two  and  did  not  know  how  to  put  their 
sympathy  into  words. 

"Evenin',  ladies,"  one  or  two  of  the  men  managed 
to  murmur,  but  the  girl  and  her  mother  scarcely 
heard  them. 

That  night,  before  she  went  to  sleep,  Di  asked 
her  mother  a  question. 

"Mama,  did  you  believe  what  Captain  Yerber 
said  about  papa's  gloves?" 

"I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  it,"  Mrs.  Carter 
answered. 

"Well,"  returned  Di,  in  a  tone  of  deep  conviction, 
"there  may  not  be  any  reason  in  it,  but  Tm  sure  he's 


The  Bidweirs  Bar  Express  39 

not  telling  the  truth.  And  what's  more,  I  think  he 
knows  more  about  papa  than  he's  willing  to  tell/' 

"You're  an  imaginative  child,  Diantha.  Suppose 
you  go  to  sleep,"  her  mother  replied. 

But  Di,  although  she  said  nothing  more  just  then, 
did  not  go  to  sleep  for  a  long,  long  time. 


CHAPTER  IV 

FAIRY  GOD-MOTHERS 

THE  next  day  Sam  Brand  found  Di  seated 
upon  a  grassy  bank  overlooking  the  river. 
*'What  are  you  doin'  ?"  he  asked  as  he  slid 
down  on  the  sward  beside  her.     "Drawin'  more 
maps?'* 

**No,"  said  Di,  "Fm  just  thinking.  Puzzling  and 
puzzling  and  not  getting  anywhere.  I  feel  like  the 
poor  little  girl  in  the  fairy  tale  who  was  set  a  task 
that  was  too  big  for  any  mortal  to  accomplish."  She 
sighed  deeply.  **Oh,  well,  sooner  or  later  my  fairy 
god-mother  will  come  to  my  aid." 

*'Do  you  mean  to  say  you  have  a  fairy  god- 
mother?" Sam  inquired  not  quite  sure  she  was  in 
earnest. 

Di  nodded  with  dancing  eyes. 

"I  have, — five  of  them,"  she  said.  "But,  sad  to 
say,  the  family  carelessly  forgot  to  invite  one  old 
fairy  and  that's  the  reason  Fm  so  small.  Instead 
of  giving  me  a  nice  present  she  was  mortally  offended 
and  decreed  that  my  hair  should  be  red,  that  I 
should  be  as  small  as  an  elf  and  wander  over  the 
face  of  the  earth  all  my  days." 

40 


Fairy  God-Mothers  41 

"But  you  did  grow  up/'  Sam  cut  in.  He  felt 
obliged  to  preserve  his  sense  of  reality  when  he 
talked  to  this  new  found  friend. 

"Oh,  yes/'  agreed  Di,  "but  that  was  because  one 
of  my  god-mothers  had  waited  till  the  last  to  make 
me  her  present.  She  was  afraid  of  what  the  bad 
fairy  might  wish  for  me,  so  after  all  the  others  had 
finished,  she  stepped  forward  and  said: 

"  *Her  hair  shall  be  red,  but  it  shall  be  the  red  of 
gold  and  every  hair  of  it  shall  curl.  She  shall  be  as 
small  as  an  elf  until  she  is  a  year  old,  then  if  she 
strokes  a  black  kitten  having  one  green  eye  and  one 
yellow  eye,  she  will  begin  to  grow.  She  shall  wander 
on  the  face  of  the  earth  until  she  finds  the  wishing- 
well;  but  when  she  drinks  of  its  waters  she  shall 
have  her  first  wish,  the  spell  shall  be  broken,  and  she 
shall  find  a  home  at  last.'  " 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  believe  all  that?" 
Sam  was  now  completely  bewildered. 

"My  father  told  it  to  me  hundreds  of  times,"  Di 
replied  gravely.  "I  was  never  tired  of  hearing  it. 
Beside,  when  I  was  over  a  year  old  and  was  begin- 
ning to  walk  around,  I  was  still  so  little  that  they 
lost  me  in  the  garden  among  the  rose  bushes.  They 
hunted  and  hunted  and  couldn't  find  me,  but  at  last 
I  came  back  all  by  myself  and  you'll  never  guess 
what  I  carried.    A  fat  little  black  kitten." 

"Oh  well,  they's  kittens  everywhere,"  Sam 
grunted.    He  was  chewing  a  stalk  of  grass  industri- 


42  Diantha's  Quest 

ously  and  thought  it  manly  to  disguise  his  interest. 
"We  was  always  drownin'  of  *em  in  Warsaw.'* 

"Ouff!*'  Di  shuddered,  "I  think  that's  horrid! 
But  anyhow  this  kitten  wasn't  like  other  kittens.  My 
father  had  hunted  everywhere  for  a  black  kitten 
for  me.  He  probably  knew  Fd'hate  to  be  so  small. 
But  every  kitten  he  found  had  a  white  breast  or  a 
white  paws  or  a  few  white  hairs  somewhere,  and 
none  of  them  had  different  colored  eyes." 

"You  mean  you'd  come  back  with  a  kitten  with 
one  green  eye  and  one  yeller  eye?  I  never  heard 
tell  of  such  a  thing."  Sam  sat  up  straight  in  his 
astonishment  and  Di  chuckled  with  delight. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  gravely,  "but  I  don't  think  it 
was  a  real  cat.  I  think  it  was  a  kobold  sent  by  my 
fairy  god-mother.  At  any  rate  it  was  never  like 
other  cats  and  at  the  end  of  seven  years  it  disap- 
peared as  mysteriously  as  it  had  come." 

"Got  shot  for  killin'  somebody's  chickens,  most 
likely,"  Sam  grunted. 

"I  don't  think  so!"  Di  spoke  positively.  "Any- 
how from  the  time  I  found  it  I  began  to  grow. 
Though  I  haven't  caught  up  yet  with  girls  of  my  own 
age,"  she  ended  with  a  sigh. 

"At  all  events  you  ain't  a  wanderer  on  the  face 
of  the  earth,"     Sam  suggested  sceptically. 

"Indeed!"  Diantha  exclaimed.  "Am  I  not? 
Listen.  I  was  born  in  New  Preston,  Connecticut,  at 
Grandma  Kingsley's.  From  there,  when  I  was  six 
months  old,  we  went  to  Grandfather  Carter's  planta- 


Fairy  God-Mothers  43 

tion,  Eastover,  in  Henry  County,  Virginia.  Then 
my  father  took  us  to  Kentucky.  Next  we  moved 
near  Bryant's  Station.  Then  we  went  into  Missouri 
to  St.  Charles—" 

*'I  come  from  Missouri,  too,"  Sam  interrupted. 
**Warsaw,  Benton  County." 

"We  didn't  stay  very  long  in  St.  Charles.  It  was 
too  civilized  for  father  who  was  always  pushing 
out  to  the  frontier,"  Di  went  on,  "so  at  last  we  went 
up  the  Gasconnade  to  start  a  lumber  mill.  They 
floated  the  lumber  down  on  rafts,  and  father  made 
a  lot  of  ntoney.  But  it  wasn't  interesting.  Just 
the  same  old  thing  every  day.  He  sold  it  and  took 
us  out  to  Charaton  and  started  off  trapping.  He 
likes  that  life.     There's  some  adventure  in  it." 

"And  now  you  live  here?"  said  Sam. 

Di  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"Now  we  don't  live  anywhere,"  she  retorted. 
"You  can't  call  it  living  to  be  crowded  into  a  wagon 
that  smells  like  a  country  store,  with  coffee  and 
bacon  arfd  blankets  and  flour  and  clothes  and  so 
many  other  things  that  you  don't  have  room  -to  -turn 
over  in  your  sleep." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  you're  jumping  off  from 
here?  I  thoug'ht  you  Jtold  me  you  were  going  to 
Fairy-land." 

Di  laughed  a  trifle  ruefully. 

"I  like  my  name  for  it  better  than  yours,"  she 
answered  softly,  "but  we  aren't  starting  from  here. 
Not  yet,  at  all  events.    You  see  there  ^re  only  three 


44  Diantha's  Quest 

of  us.  Mama  and  me,  and  Uncle  Toby.  You  saw 
him  the  other  day.  And  none  of  the  trains  are 
willing  to  take  us,  because  we  have  no  white  man 
with  us  to  protect  us.'* 

Sam  emitted  a  long,  low  whistle. 

"I  might  have  knowed  it,*'  he  exclaimed.  "You 
belong  to  the  *Angel  Mules,'  and  it  was  you  faced 
Yerber  down  last  night  and  made  him  give  up  your 
pa's  gloves !  Why  we  'most  went  with  that  outfit," 
he  went  on.  "Only  my  Dad  he  couldn't  stand  Yer- 
ber nohow,  so  we  drawed  out.  Dad  allows  that  if 
they  do  reach  the  mines  a  month  or  so  before  we  do, 
they  won't  clean  the  hull  place  up  In  that  time. 
There'll  be  some  pickin's  left  for  us."  The  boy 
laughed  comfortably.  He  shared  the  belief  of  all 
the  early  emigrants  that  the  gold  supply  was  inex- 
haustible. 

"I  don't  like  Mr.  Yerber, — not  because  he  didn't 
take  us  with  him,"  Diantha  was  reasoning  this  out 
as  she  talked.  "He  had  a  duty  to  the  rest  of  his 
party,  I  grant;  but  I  don't  believe  that  was  why  he 
didn't  take  us.  And  why  did  he  give  me  those 
gloves  if  he  meant  to  get  them  back  again?" 

"Did  he  try  to  do  that?"  Sam's  tone  was  startled. 

"Yes,"  Di  nodded,  "At  least  I  think  so.  At  any 
rate  mama  was  asked  to  call  and  see  the  baby  of  a 
poor  family  who  didn't  want  to  go  to  the  expense 
of  a  doctor  unless  it  really  had  cholera.  It  was 
dark  and  I  wouldn't  let  her  cross  the  camp  alone, 
and  Uncle  Toby  wasn't  willing  we  should  go  without 


Fairy  God-Mothers  4S 

him;  so  he  took  a  lantern  and  we  all  went.  When 
we  came  back  everything  in  the  wagon  was  upside 
down;  but  not  one  thing  was  taken." 

'*What  makes  you  think  k  was  someone  after 
the  gloves?"  Sam  asked.  "They  weren't  stolen,  you 
say." 

''No,"  returned  Diantha  dryly,  *'I  had  them  with 
me,  that's  why." 

Sam  whistled  thoughtfully.  Whistling  was  always 
a  great  help  to  him. 

"Didn't  nobody  see  who  meddled  with  your 
stores?"  he  asked. 

"There's  a  Conestoga  wagon  camped  near  us," 
Di  expla/ined.  "It's  packed  so  full  of  goods  that  the 
people  live  in  tents.  The  woman  told  mama  that 
she  went  outside  after  putting  the  children  to  bed 
and  saw  a  tall  man  near  our  outfit.  She  called  out 
to  him  that  we  had  gone  over  to  see  the  Cronin 
baby  and  he  grunted  something  and  walked  off  in 
that  direction.  She  didn't  think  anything  more 
about  it  till  she  heard  what  had  happened." 

"CouMn't  she  tell  you  what  the  man  looked  like?" 

"It  was  too  dark.  He  went  off  in  a  hwrry  and 
stumbled  over  a  tent  rope  of  that  party  that  call 
themselves  the  Blue  Grass  Boys." 

"Maybe  someone  there  saw  him,"  Sam  suggested 
eagerly. 

"Maybe,"  Di  agreed,  "but  they  all  jumped  off  this 
morning,  so  we  aren't  likely  to  find  out." 

"Oh,  that  ain't  no  ways  certain,"  Sam  said.  "They 


46  Dianfha's  Quest 

tell  me  that  people  are  forever  catching  up  an'  pass- 
ing each  other  on  the  road.  If  ever  I  meet  up  with 
that  outfit  I'll  ask  'em.  The  Blue  Grass  Boys,"  he 
repeated  the  words  several  times  to  fix  them  in  his 
memory. 

"I  can't  see  that  it  matters  much,"  said  Di,  "so 
long  as  no  harm  was  done  and  nothing  taken.  Mama 
had  a  scare,  though,"  she  added.  ^They'd  upset 
her  precious  vinegar  jug  and  she  thought  it  had  all 
been  spilled  and  was  about  ready  to  cry." 

"Is  she  that  fond  of  vinegar?"    Sam  was  puzzled. 

"She  counts  on  it  .to  keep  off  scurvy,  and  mother  is 
as  wise  as  twenty  doctors,  so  if  you  haven't  a  jug 
of  vinegar  you'd  better  tell  your  father  to  buy  one. 
You  know  we've  months  ahead  of  us  without  a 
chance  to  get  green  food.  Fortunately  Uncle  Toby 
had  driven  the  corncob  stopper  in  so  tight  that  none 
of  ours  was  lost." 

"How  did  your  ma  learn  about  doctorin'?"  Sam 
asked,  always  curious  to  hear  how  anyone  had 
acquired  special  knowledge.  "I  do'  know  but  may- 
be I'd  like  to  be  a  doctor  myself." 

"She  just  seems  to  have  an  instinct  for  it,"  Dian- 
tha  answered,  "and  then,  when  I  was  very  little,  she 
lived  for  a  while  with  Grandfather  Carter  in  Vir- 
ginia. They  have  a  great  many  slaves  there,  and 
of  course  they  can't  call  in  a  doctor  every  time  one 
of  them  is  lazy  and  claims  to  have  *a  misery'  to  get 
out  of  working.  So  their  mistress  learns  to  tell  if 
they  are  really  sick  or  not  and  what  to  do  for  their 


Fairy  God-Mothers  47 

little  ailments.  Of  course  mother  says  she  picked 
up  what  she  knows  from  Grandmama  Carter  but  I 
have  my  own  opinion  and  so  has  Uncle  Toby.'* 
Diantha  managed  to  look  very  mysterious  as  she 
ended  abruptly. 

"Oh,  go  on,"  said  Sam,  "tell  me  what  you  mean." 

"Uncle  Toby  says  that  down  on  the  plantation 
all  the  hands  knew  that  they  might  fool  'OP  Miss' 
into  thinkin'  they  were  sick  once  in  a  while  but  never 
*Little  Miss.'  That's  mama.  *She  done  got  a  gif'/ 
Uncle  Toby  says.  *We  all  knows  it'.  And,"  added 
Di  with  a  chuckle,  "I  know  where  the  gift  came 
from." 

"Where?"  asked  Sam,  open-mouthed. 

"From  her  fairy  god-mother!"  declared  Di. 

"Does  all  your  folks  have  fairy  god-mothers?" 
the  boy  questioned  a  trifle  enviously. 

"It's  my  opinion  that  most  people  have  them," 
Di  insisted  stoutly.  "Most  everybody  has  some- 
thing that  they  do  very,  very  well  without  any  ef- 
fort on  their  part.  That's  their  gift  from  their 
fairy  god-mother.  Of  course  if  you're  stupid  and 
stubborn  and  won't  believe  in  fairies  they  don't 
take  the  trouble  to  let  you  see  them,  and  perhaps 
I'ose  interest  in  you  altogether;  but  that's  your  own 
fault." 

"I  guess  the  fairies  was  all  asleep  when  I  was 
christened."  Sam  whistled  ruefully  to  himself,  and 
Di  laughed. 

"There  was  at  least  one  of  them  awake!"  she 


48  Diantha's  Quest 

declared.  "I  never  heard  a  boy  who  could  whistle 
as  you  can.  It's  like  a  mocking-bird,  and  certainly 
some  good  fairy  bestowed  that  gift  on  you.'* 

^'Land's  sakes!"  cried  Sam,  astonished.  "You 
don't  mean  to  say  you  like  to  hear  me  whistlin'? 
Why  I  got  more  cuffs  for  that  at  the  Huttons'  than 
for  anything  else.  I  try  not  to  do  it,  but  it  comes 
so  natural  sometimes  I  just  forget." 

"Exactly!"  said  Di  complacently.  "It's  a  fairy 
gift.  You  just  can't  help  it,  and  if  I  were  you,  now 
that  you're  away  from  the  Huttons,  I  wouldn't  try." 

The  two  sat  silent  for  a  while  after  this,  the  boy 
pleased  and  surprised,  but  too  shy  to  try  to  express 
his  pleasure.  The  girl,  already  forgetting  Sam  in 
the  serious  worriment  their  predicament  occasioned. 
At  last  she  heaved  a  long  sigh  an*d  jumped  to  her 
feet. 

"This  isn't  getting  us  a  place  in  a  wagon-train," 
she  said  briskly.  "And  unless  we  can  start  in  the 
next  few  days  we  might  as  well  sell  out  and  go  back 
to  Grandpapa's  in  Virginia,  which  would  be  a  sad 
blow.  For  very  many  reasons  it's  the  last  thing  in 
the  world  Mama  and  I  would  do  willingly.  Indeed, 
rather  than  that,  I'll  persuade  her  to  go  on  alone. 
We  ought  to  go,  no  matter  what  the  danger." 

She  did  not  explain  to  Sam,  that  everyone  in  his 
family  had  disapproved  when  her  father  had  left 
home  and  gone  west  taking  Di  and  her  mother,  all 
predicting  freely  that  he  would  only  return  with  them 
to  be  a  charge  upon  the  estates  when  his  thin  purse 


Fairy  God-Mothers  49 

was  exhausted.  She  did  not  tell  him  their  urgent 
reasons  for  hastening  to  California,  nor  did  she  ex- 
plain that  their  money  and  supplies  were  both  scanty, 
and,  fortunately  for  her  pride,  Sam  put  his  own 
interpretation  upon  her  words. 

"It's  time  we  all  was  movin',**  he  said.  "We 
don't  none  of  us  want  to  be  caught  this  side  of  the 
mountains  when  snow  flies." 

"But  the  trouble  is  that  no  one  will  take  two 
women !''    Di  burst  out  bitterly. 

The  distress  and  anxiety  in  her  voice  gave  Sam 
Brand  his  first  hint  of  a  new  side  to  the  character 
of  this  strange  girl.  He  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 
Heretofore  her  mood  had  been  gay  and  full  of 
laughter.  Most  of  her  talk  had  been  fanciful  and 
unfamiliar  to  his  ears.  She  had  attracted  him  be- 
cause he  had  never  come  into  contact  with  anyone 
who  had  seemed  so  little  concerned  with  the  every- 
day realities  of  life. 

Now  she  had  suddenly  shown  him  that  she  was 
deeply  interested  in  the  activities  about  them.  Her 
outburst  was  plain  evidence  that  she  was  as  keenly 
desirous  of  starting  for  the  promised  land  as  he  was. 
Here  was  no  talk  of  fairies,  but  the  frank  statement 
of  a  difficulty  that  the  boy  understood  perfectly. 

"There  must  be  some  outfit  will  take  you  along," 
he  said,  encouragingly. 

"But  there  isn't,"  Di  returned.  "WeVe  begged 
and  pleaded  with  one  leader  after  another;  they're 


50  Diantha's  Quest 

all  afraid  we'll  hold  them  back.  Just  because  we're 
women." 

"There's  lots  of  women  going,"  Sam  replied. 
"Look  at  that  Tupper  outfit.     Five  of  'em!" 

"But  they  have  a  man  to  look  after  them,"  Di 
retorted,  half  angrily,  half  hopelessly.  "We  have 
Uncle  Toby,  only  they  don't  count  him  I  But  they 
shan't  keep  us  back,"  she  went  on,  her  resentment 
growing.  "We'll  get  to  California,  if  we  have  to  go 
alone." 

"You  couldn't  start  off  by  yourselves,  not  you  two 
ladies  I"  Sam  protested  earnestly. 

"Why  couldn't  we?"  Diantha  cried.  "We  have 
a  good  outfit.  We  have  as  much  sense  as  a  Mr. 
Yerber  or  a  Mr.  Cronin,  haven't  we?  We  can  put 
up  with  as  many  hardships  as  anyone.  Why  shouldn't 
we  go  alone?" 

"I  dunno,"  the  boy  murmured  a  little  bewildered. 
"It  ain't  done,  that's  all." 

"Then  it's  time  it  was  done !"  Di  insisted  vehe- 
mently, as  she  rose  to  her  feet.  "Nobody  shall  keep 
us  back  just  because  we  haven't  a  white  man  in  our 
party!" 

Sam  looked  at  her  in  astonishment  as  she  stood 
for  an  instant  gazing  out  to  the  west  The  golden 
light  of  the  after-glow  shone  upon  her  face  and 
burnished  her  coppery  hair.  Her  head  was  thrown 
a  little  back  as  if  she  challenged  the  boundless  plain 
before  her,  and  her  small  figure  quivered  with  deter- 
mination. 


Fairy  God-Mothers  51 

"We  must  go !  We  must  go  !'*  she  murmured  and 
then,  without  another  word,  as  if  indeed,  she  nieant 
to  start  that  very  moment,  Diantha  Carter  walked 
quickly  away,  leaving  the  boy  gazing  after  her  in 
wide-eyed  wonder. 


CHAPTER  V 

SAM  ADOPTS  A  FAMILY 

AFTER  Di  had  left  him  Sam  Brand  sat  still, 
thoughtfully  digging  at  the  sandy  soil  with  the 
toe  of  his  boot.  Finally  he  stretched  out  on 
his  back  with  his  hands  behind  his  head  looking  up 
at  the  great  white  clouds  that  rolled  across  a  sky  of 
deepest  blue.  For  some  time  he  lay  thus  in  silence 
but  at  last  he  began  to  whistle.  Not  any  familiar 
tune,  but  a  flood  of  musical  notes  such  as  a  bird  might 
pour  forth.  Indeed  Diantha  Carter  had  described 
the  performance  well  when  she  said  that  it  was  like  a 
mocking-bird. 

A  man,  letting  his  heavy  frame  down  slowly  on  the 
grass  beside  the  boy,  brought  the  whistling  to  an 
abrupt  conclusion. 

"You  can  keep  right  on,  Sammy,''  Sam  Brand, 
Senior,  remarked  half  apologetically,  the  apology 
being  intended  for  his  own  parental  weakness,  "your 
noise  don't  annoy  me  much." 

"Do  you  know,  Dad,  someone  told  me  today 
sh — they  liked  my  whistlin' — " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  chuckle  from  his  father. 

"Land  sakes,  Sammy!"  Mr.  Brand  cried,  "are 

52 


Sam  Adopts  a  Family  53 

you  as  old  as  that?  For  it's  dollars  to  doughnuts 
'sh-they'  wore  a  sun-bunnet." 

"It  wasn't  just  a  girl  like  Lize  Hutton,"  Sam 
said  gravely,  refusing  to  be  disconcerted.  "It  was 
a  lady.    An  educated  one.'* 

"You  set  great  store  by  education,  don't  you,  Sam- 
my?" The  man  spoke  with  a  sort  of  awe  in  his 
tone. 

"There's  such  a  lot  to  know.  Dad,"  the  boy  mur- 
mured. 

"Well,"  his  father  continued,  "readin',  'rithme- 
tic,  and  a  little  writin',  is  all  the  education  I  ever 
had  or  felt  the  need  of." 

"But  there's  heaps  of  learnin'  beside  that,"  Sam 
insisted.  "I  dunno  how  much,  but  I  'low  there's 
things  in  books  would  surprise  you." 

"Maybe,"  agreed  the  elder  Brand  complacently. 
"Maybe!  I  ain't  sot  agin'  education;  but  readin' 
the  papers  was  allers  enough  for  me.  As  for  writin', 
I  can  do  my  name  as  good  as  any  man,  with  a  flour- 
ish to  the  end  of  it  like  a  school  teacher.  Fact  is, 
Sammy,  I  allers  'lowed  it  looked  right  down  ignor- 
ant to  sign  your  papers  with  a  cross.  I  ain't  learned, 
but  I  ain't  dumb  neither." 

"But  Dad."  Sam  sat  up  and  looked  earnestly  into 
his  father's  face.  "There's  things  that  I  never 
thought  of." 

"What  kind  of  things?"  his  father  demanded. 

"Oh,  I  dunno,"  the  boy  replied  after  a  long 
moment's   silence.      His    thoughts   were   still   with 


54  DIantha's  Quest 

Diantha  Carter,  but  he  hesitated  to  take  his  father 
into  his  confidence  about  her  as  yet. 

"Well,  sonny,'*  Mr.  Brand  remarked  slowly,  "if 
so  be  we  make  our  pile,  I  won't  lay  nothin'  in  your 
Way.  I  'low  you  won't  look  down  on  your  old  father 
because  you  happened  to  go  to  one  of  these  here 
colledges  and  he  didn't." 

"I  ain't  never  thought  o'  a  coUedge!"  Sam  ex- 
claimed. "High  school  was  what  I  was  aimin'  at. 
A  feller  has  to  know  a  lot  to  go  to  colledge.  Dad." 

"I  don't  see  as  you're  so  thick-headed  you  can't  be 
learned!"  The  father  bristled  at  the  thought  that 
this  son  of  his,  in  whom  he  took  an  immense  pride, 
could  not  hold  his  own  with  the  best.  "All  you  need 
is  money  to  pay  someone  to  teach  you,  and  Sammy, 
my  boy,  we're  going  to  find  that  out  there!"  He 
threw  his  arm  in  a  wide  gesture  toward  the  west, 
and  for  a  moment  or  two  they  sat,  each  busy  con- 
juring a  picture  of  the  riches  that  were  to  be  theirs. 

"Dad,"  Sam  questioned  eagerly,  at  length,  "when 
do  we  jump  off  ?  I'm  plumb  anxious  to  get  to  work. 
I  feel  as  if  I'd  go  crazy  sittin'  idle  and  thinkin' 
that  if  I  was  only  there  in  Californy  I'd  be  shovelin' 
up  nuggets,  fast  as  I  could  stoop  over." 

"It  won't  come  as  easy  as  that,  Sammy  boy,"  his 
father  cautioned  gravely.  "We'll  have  to  sweat  for 
what  we  get,  I  reckon ;  but  the  gold  is  there  and  we 
won't  grudge  the  work  to  get  it  out.  And  I  tell  you 
another  thing,  sonny,  we  won't  throw  it  away  as 
fellers  like  Yerber  do," 


Sam  Adopts  a  Family  55 

"Thow  14:  away?"  Sam  repeated  wonderlngly. 

"Might  as  well,"  replied  his  father.  "Yerber 
made  his  strike  out  there,  and  what  did  he  do  with 
it?  Gambled  it  away  between  the  Golden  Gate  and 
Panama.  What  was  left  disappeared  goin^  up  to 
New  York.  He  told  me  about  it  himself.  Seemed 
kind  o'  proud  of  it.  He  said  the  man  who'd  won 
his  money  staked  him  to  this  trip.  Yerber  naturally 
expected  the  feller  would  want  a  share;  but  no,  he 
said  he'd  win  it  all  back  next  time  before  they  got  to 
Gatun,  and  I  guess  he  will."  Mr.  Brand  shook  his 
head  in  perplexity.  "Beats  me  how  a  man  can  be 
such  a  fool!"  he  murmured. 

"Is  that  the  reason  you  didn't  go  in  Yerber's  out- 
fit?" his  son  asked. 

"No,"  was  the  slow  answer.  "Can't  say  as  it  was 
exactly.  Fact  is  I've  been  kind  o'  kickin'  myself 
'cause  I  didn't  go  with  'em,  after  swappin'  our  ox- 
teams  for  horses  jes'  so  we  might.  We'd  a-been 
twenty-five  miles  on  our  way  if  we  had;  but  it  seemed 
like  I  couldn't  stand  Yerber  nohow.  Can't  give  a 
name  to  why  I  couldn't  cotton  to  the  man,  but — well, 
he  kind  o'  stuck  in  my  craw,  Yerber  did." 

At  that  moment  a  hail  interrupted  this  Intimate 
conversation  and  one  of  the  emigrants,  a  man  named 
Tupper,  came  up  to  them. 

"You're  the  feller  I'm  lookin'  for,"  he  announced 
to  Mr.  Brand. 

"Set  down  and  tell  me  about  it,"  came  the  smiling 
invitation. 


56  Diantha^s  Quest 

Ain*t  got  time  to  set/*  Tupper  explained.  **I  was 
wonderin'  had  you  made  any  arrangements  for 
company  on  the  trail?" 

"Not  yet,"  said  Brand  shortly. 

"Well,"  Tupper  went  on,  "IVe  heard  o'  quite  a 
number  o*  outfits  that  are  kind  o*  at  loose  ends,  not 
quite  knowin'  who  to -tie  up  to,  or  perhaps  not  swift 
enough  for  the  BidwelPs  Bar  Express." 

"There's  a  good  many  wasn't  swift  enough,"  Mr. 
Brand  remarked  cautiously,  "but  Fve  been  thinkin' 
maybe  Yerber  has  the  right  idee.  It  ain't  necessary 
that  every  outfit  should  be  an  express,  but  I  'low 
everybody  in  a  party  ought  to  be  able  for  about 
the  same  speed.  If  one  wagon  lags  behind,  it  stands 
to  reason  that  the  rest  of  the  train  has  to  hold  back 
similar." 

"Jes'  so,"  Tupper  agreed.  "O'  course,  once  we're 
started,  we're  obliged  to  stand  by  each  other  and 
keep  together.  I  ain't  much  afraid  of  Indians 
raidin'  a  big  party,  but  I  reckon  there's  some  bad 
ones  would  make  short  work  of  a  lone  wagon." 

The  boy,  listening  eagerly  to  this  talk,  turned 
sharply  to  Tupper. 

"Do  you  think  there's  danger,  real  danger,  I  mean, 
of  a  lone  outfit  bein'  attacked  by  Injuns?' 

"I  don't  think  it,  I  know  it!"  Tupper  declared 
positively.  "Why,  no  longer  ago  than  yesterday,  a 
pack  train  came  through  from  the  diggin's  what  had 
been  ambushed  near  the  South  Platte." 

"I  seen  them  fellers,"  Mr.  Brand  put  in.  "They 


Sam  Adopts  a  Family  57 

was  travelin'  fast  and  light.  Kind  o'  silent  I 
thought  they  was." 

*'They  said  plenty  about  the  Injuns,'*  Tupper 
went  on,  volubly.  "Seems  they  was  just  ready  to 
camp  down  for  the  night  when  they  was  attacked." 

"What  did  they  do?"  asked  Sam  excitedly. 

"Well,  they  made  their  animals  lie  down  in  a 
ring,"  Tupper  explained,  "and  shot  over  'em,  as  the 
Injuns  rode  circles  about  the  camp.  O'  course  the 
savages  didn't  have  nothin'  to  sh-oot  with  'cept  bows, 
but  these  strangers  said  you'd  be  surprised  at  the 
force  of  them  arrows.  One  of  'em  came  right 
through  a  horse  and  nicked  the  feller  behind  it  in 
the  shoulder.     Fact !    He  showed  me  the  arrow." 

"I've  seen  'em  send  an  arrer  clean  through  a  buf- 
falo down  in  Texas,"  said  Mr.  Brand.  "Indians  is 
treacherous  animals.  If  they  think  you're  weak 
and  can't  put  up  no  fight,  why  you  ain't  got  no  show 
with  'em  at  all." 

"Then  nobody  ought  to  take  the  trail  alone,  ought 
they?"  Sam  suggested  anxiously. 

"Not  if  they  calculates  to  get  through  alive,"  Mr. 
Brand  said,  emphatically.  "But  there  ain't  anybody 
fool  enough  to 'try." 

"At  any  rate  we're  wastin'  time  now,"  Mr.  Tup- 
per Interrupted  reverting  to  the  subject  which  had 
brought  him  there.  "What  I  wanted  to  tell  you  was 
that  I'm  going  to  call  a  meetin'  tonight  to  arrange  a 
party,  and  I'd  be  glad  if  you'd  come." 

"Sure,  I'll  come,"  said  Mr.  Brand  jumping  to  his 


58  Diantha's  Quest 

feet,  "but  there^s  two  or  three  men  Fd  like  to  have 
there,  if  you  don't  mind." 

"I'd  be  pleased  to  see  'em,"  Tupper  replied 
readily.  "I'd  li'ke  to  get  as  good  an  outfit  travelin' 
together  as  we  can,  and  if  you  know  o'  any  able  for 
it,  why  bring  'em  along." 

"I'll  go  round  'em  up  now,"  Mr.  Brand  replied 
and  the  men  moved  off  together  leaving  Sam  a  prey 
to  anxious  thoughts. 

"Them  two  can't  go  alone !"  he  murmured  to  him- 
self, and  lay  back  on  the  grass  to  puzzle  a  way  out 
of  the  difficulty.  For  a  long  time  he  remained  mo- 
tionless and  then,  suddenly,  he  broke  into  a  whistle 
with  a  note  of  joy  and  hope  in  it,  as  if  he  had  found 
a  solution  of  his  problem. 

"What  they  need  is  a  white  man  to  look  after 
their  outfit,"  he  said  aloud,  as  he  jumped  to  his  feet 
and  started  rapidly  toward  his  own  camping  place. 

The  meeting  called  that  night  by  Tupper  around 
his  camp-fire  progressed  amicably  to  an  agreement. 
All  were  ready  to  start  and  only  awaited  the  op- 
portunity. An  election  was  held  and  somewhat  to 
his  surprise  Mr.  Brand  was  made  captain  of  the 
party,  for  the  reason  that,  as  there  was  no  member 
with  previous  experience  on  the  trail,  it  seemed  best 
to  select  an  old  soldier  to  command  them. 

Finally  a  list  was  made  of  the  men  present  and 
their  dependents,  the  idea  being  to  put  numbers  in  a 
hat  and  let  each  emigrant  draw  for  the  position  of 


Sam  Adopts  a  Family  59 

his  outfit  in  the  line,  thus  avoiding  any  contention 
that  one  was  favored  above  another. 

When  it  came  Captain  Brand's  turn  to  declare  the 
members  of  his  party  he  said: 

"I  got  a  wagon  with  four  horses,  and  my  boy 
Sammy's  got  a  mustang." 

But  Sam  Brand,  Junior  had  done  considerable 
thinking  after  his  father  had  left  him  on  that  grassy 
bank  and  now  he  spoke  up  manfully,  just  as  if  his 
heart  was  not  beating  to  suffocation. 

"I'm  on  my  lone,  you  know,  Dad.  I  had  ought 
to  be  entered  that  way." 

"Why  so  you  are,  Sammy,  so  you  are,"  his  father 
returned,  puzzled  and  seeing  no  point  in  the  boy's 
contention;  but  it  was  not  a  matter  for  serious  argu- 
ment and  the  name  Sam  Brand,  Junior  was  entered 
on  the  lists. 

"An'  I  got  a  party,"  said  young  Sam,  turning  a 
little  white. 

"You've  got  one  right  smart  little  pinto  pony," 
his  father  smiled,  "if  you  call  that  a  party." 

"I  got  more  than  that,"  said  Sam,  braving  it  out. 
"I  got  three  fine  mules,  an'  a  wagon,  an'  a  hired 
man  to  drive  it — " 

"You  got  a  sun-stroke  or  something,  Sammy!" 
exclaimed  his  father,  not  able  to  explain  what  he 
heard  in  any  other  way,  and  he  added  anxiously. 
"Where  does  it  hurt  you?  Is  it  your  head?"  and 
ended  with  seeming  irrelevance,  "I  always  did  allow 
that  all  this  education  was  weakenin'," 


60  Diantha's  Quest 

"There  ain*t  nothing  at  all  the  matter  with  me, 
Dad,*'  said  young  Sam,  brushing  this  paternal  soli- 
citude aside.  "IVe  got  just  what  Fm  tellin'  you — 
an'  two  ladies  beside/' 

Naturally  the  effect  of  this  announcement  was  not 
small.  Everyone  present  felt  the  surprise  of  it  and 
a  moment  of  silence  fell  on  the  group  which  Sam 
was  the  fir^  to  break. 

"It's  a  good  outfit.  It  won't  hold  nobody  back," 
he  declared  firmly.  **An'  me  and  the  man  won't 
have  to  ask  no  favors  of  nobody." 

"Now  listen  here,  sonny,"  Mr.  Tupper  broke  in 
upon  him,  "that's  all  right  enough;  but  we  under- 
stood you  and  your  father  was  alone.  We  don't 
need  any  more  women-folk!" 

"Perhaps  you  don't,"  said  Sam,  with  a  smile  that 
he  tried  to  suppress,  for  he  knew  that  Tupper  had 
a  masterful  wife  and  four  hoydenish  daughters, 
much  sought  after  at  the  camp  dances;  "but  you  see 
I  ain't  got  no  women-folks  but  these  two,  and  I  got 
as  good  a  right  to  a  family  as  any  other  man  of  the 
party." 

"Well,  I  guess  Captain  Brand  is  the  one  to  say 
if  this  wagon-train  will  take  on  new  members  or 
not,"  Tupper  muttered  discomfited,  for  he  had 
heard  a  little  laugh  go  around  the  circle  at  Sam's 
reply. 

Captain  Brand  nodded  gravely  and  accepted  the 
responsibility. 

"Whose  outfit  is  this,  Sammy  and  what  do  you 


Sam  Adopts  a  Family  61 

know  about  them?'*  he  asked  practically,  his  fears 
for  his  son's  sanity  at  an  end. 

"It  belongs  to  Mis'  Carter/'  Sam  replied.  "You 
call  it  the  Angel  Mules." 

"And  who  is  the  second  lady?"  Brand  inquired 
with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  "Mis'  Carter's  mother?" 

Sam  turned  pink  at  this  but  held  his  ground. 

"It's  Mis'  Carter's  daughter,"  he  returned  briefly. 

"And  *sh — they'  want  to  go  to  California,  do 
they?" 

"Now  see  here.  Dad,"  said  Sam,  "you  quit  your 
joshin'  and  listen.  These  two's  got  grit.  They're 
planmn'  to  set  out  alone  if  they  can't  sign  up  with 
some  train,  and  I  heard  you  'low  this  mornin'  that 
that  wasn't  safe." 

"It  ain't,"  Brand  agreed.  "Well,  from  what  you 
say,  Sammy,  I  guess  there's  nothin'  for  it  but  to 
take  'em  on  if  they  can  keep  up  with  us;  but  I  got 
to  satisfy  myself  they  won't  hold  the  rest  back. 
Those  Angel  Mules  may  just  be  fat  and  white  and 
sleek.  The  kind  of  animals  a  lady  likes  to  make 
pets  of." 

"They  was  good  enough  for  the  Bidwell's  Bar 
Express,"  snapped  Sam.  "I  guess  they'll  be  able  to 
keep  up  with  us,"  He  was  decidedly  touchy  about 
the  Angel  Mules. 

"You-all  can  leave  it  to  me,"  Captain  Brand  said, 
turning  to  the  other  men.  "I'll  look  'em  over  to- 
night before  we  turn  in,  meanwhile  we'll  put  the 
name  in  the  hat  with  the  others  and  Sammy  can  draw 


62  DIantha's  Quest 

for  'em.  If  I  don't  take  'em,  no  one  will  be  a  mite 
worse  off.  If  I  do — ^Well,  I  guess  my  son  and  me 
can  look  out  for  'em." 

"Captain,"  a  shy  little  man  put  up  his  hand  like 
a  schoolboy  asking  his  teacher  for  permission  to 
speak. 

"I'm  listenin',  Cronin,"  said  Brand  in  surprise. 

"This  Mis'  Carter,"  said  Cronin,  "she's  a  real 
lady,  captain,  like  them  up  at  the  castle  at  home." 

"You  mean  she's  Irish?"  asked  Brand,  puzzled. 

"No,  no,  she's  not  off  the  sod,"  Cronin  hastened 
to  explain,  "for  all  that,  captain  dear,  she's  off  the 
same  piece  with  those  ones.  She's  used  to  lookin' 
after  people,  and  as  for  doctorin',  she's  as  wise  a 
one  as  ever  I  want.  It'll  be  awful  handy  to  have  her 
along  for  them  as  have  childern." 

"Is  she  the  woman  who  cured  your  baby  of 
cholera,  Cronin?"  one  of  the  listeners  asked  curi- 
ously. 

"She's  the  lady,"  Cronin  answered  reprovingly. 
"Ain't  I  after  tellin'  you  she  isn't  one  of  us?  What- 
ever brought  her  here  alone  I  don't  know." 

"The  same  thing  that  has  brought  the  rest  of 
us,"  Tupper  said.  "Gold!  I  ain't  never  heard  that 
fine  ladies  scorned  it.  Well,  Cap'n  Brand,  I  don't 
see  that  any  of  us  has  any  call  to  object  if  you  care 
to  shoulder  this  outfit,  so  let's  draw  and  get  to  sleep. 
We've  an  early  start  ahead  of  us." 

The  hat  was  passed  around  the  circle,  Tupper, 
who  drew  first,  getting  the  seventh  place;  and  Sam, 


Sam  Adopts  a  Family  63 

who  drew  third,  bringing  out  number  one  for  the 
Carters;  then,  their  business  concluded,  the  meeting 
adjourned  without  further  ceremony. 

It  was  a  beautiful  star-lit  night  when  the  Brands, 
father  and  son,  started  out  to  find  the  outfit  that 
Captain  Brand  had  dubbed  the  Angel  Mules  because 
of  the  pure  color  of  the  animals  Uncle  Toby  was  so 
proud  of. 

"YouVe  sure  took  a  great  shine  to  these  people, 
Sammy,"  Brand  said  seriously,  a  remark  which  Sam 
did  not  resent  as  he  had  his  father's  facetiousness. 

"I  ain't  never  seen  but  one  of  the  ladies — the 
girl,"  he  explained.  "She  knows  such  a  lot.  Dad. 
She's  only  about  as  big  as  a  minute ;  but  it  will  take 
me  years  to  learn  the  half  of  what  she  has  packed 
inside  her  head.  The  thing  that  got  me  was  the 
pluck  of  her,  tryin'  to  make  her  ma  start  off  alone. 
She  knew  it  was  dangerous,  because  she  said  so ;  but 
she  was  set  on  goin'  just  the  same." 

In  the  dark  Captain  Brand  slowly  wagged  his 
head  up  and  down  in  agreement.  He,  too,  appre- 
ciated the  daring  of  two  ladies  setting  out  on  such  a 
trip. 

"I  hope  we  can  take  'em  with  us,"  he  said.  "If 
we  can't,  Sammy, — ^if  their  outfit  is  just  no  use,  I'll 
try  to  make  'em  see  that  they'd  do  no  good  to  no 
one  if  they  got  stuck  among  the  Indians  or  the  Mor- 
mons." His  effort  was  to  speak  lightly  and  Sam 
strove  to  observe  a  semblance  of  indifference  as  he 
rep'lied : 


64  Diantha's  Quest 

"It's  a  good  outfit.  IVe  heard  plenty  of  people 
speak  of  it.  Nobody  misses  them  three  cream- 
colored  mules." 

The  camp  in  the  river  bottom  was  just  like  a 
number  of  others  in  the  middle  west  where  cara- 
vans assembled  for  the  various  trails.  It  never 
seemed  to  grow  any  smaller.  Those  who  jumped 
off  were  at  once  replaced  by  others,  hopefully  look- 
ing forward  to  their  chance  to  follow.  There  was 
every  sort  of  vehicle  pressed  into  service,  as  judg- 
ment or  pocket-book  dictated,  from  Conestoga 
wagons  to  country  doctors'  "one  boss  shays."  There 
were  substantial  tents  and  pitiful  little  spreads  of 
canvas  that  would  prove  poor  protection  against 
wind  or  rain.  Few  of  the  emigrants  were  veteran 
campaigners,  fewer  still  made  any  attempt  to  safe- 
guard their  health.  Many  indeed  were  destined  to 
leave  their  bones  on  the  prairie  without  ever  setting 
eyes  on  the  land  of  gold,  and  much  of  the  disease 
that  attacked  them  was  preventable;  but  ordinary 
precautions  were  too  often  forgotten  in  the  mad  rush 
to  be  first  at  the  gold  fields. 

The  Brands  were  obliged  to  pass  from  one  side 
to  the  other  of  this  gathering  and  they  had  not  pro- 
gressed far  before  Sam  stopped  his  father  with  a 
hand  on  his  arm. 

"We  can't  go  now,"  he  said.  "It's  too  late. 
Everybody  is  asleep."  He  pointed  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  his  father's  eye  followed  his  wandering 
finger.     Sure  enough,  the  quick  spurts  of  light  that 


Sam  Adopts  a  Family  65 

indicated  lanterns  were  no  longer  visible.  Here  and 
there  was  the  red  glow  of  embers  from  open  fires 
where  doubtless  some  old  campaigners  slept  rolled 
in  their  blankets,  but  the  camp  as  a  whole  was  dark 
and  silent. 

"We  needn't  wake  the  ladies,"  Brand  returned. 
"Didn't  you  say  they  had  a  hired  man?  A  driver? 
We'll  find  him.  He  can  show  me  all  I  need  to 
know." 

So  they  continued  on  their  way,  careful  not  to 
trip  over  tent  ropes  or  to  run  into  sleeping  animals, 
and  at  last  emerged  on  the  far  side  of  the  camp, 
where  Captain  Brand  stopped,  utterly  at  a  loss. 

"This  is  where  I  thought  their  outfit  was,"  he 
muttered  in  a  low  tone. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Sam.  "The  only  time  I 
ever  saw  them  mules  was  this  mornin'.  The  old 
man  was  drivin'  'em  out  to  graze.  I  never  saw  the 
wagon  at  all." 

"I'm  quite  sure  it  was  here-about,"  Captain  Brand 
repeated.  "Yes,  it  was  a  new  white  top,  and  it 
stood  next  to  that  green  top  with  *Never  Say  Die' 
printed  on  it  in  black."  He  strode  over  toward  the 
green  top,  intent  upon  identifying  it  by  its  motto, 
and,  being  less  .careful  in  his  eagerness,  he  stumbled 
over  a  figure  curled  in  a  hollow  in  the  ground. 

A  querulous  voice  assailed  him. 

"Now  dod  blast  you,"  it  said,  "ain't  this  hull 
Indian  nation  big  enough  to  walk  over  without 
steppin'  on  the  only  part  of  it  I'm  lyin'  on?    There 


66  Diantha's  Quest 

goes  the  first  good  night's  sleep  IVe  had  since  the 
baby  was  born  I" 

"Sorry,  friend/'  said  Captain  Brand,  "but  Vm 
lookin'  for  Mis'  Carter's  outfit.  I  thought  it  was 
located  round  here  somewheres." 

"So  it  is,"  said  the  sleeper  sitting  up  and  rubbing 
his  eyes.  "The  women-folk  live  in  their  wagon. 
They  turned  in  hours  ago,  leastways  their  light  went 
out  before  my  wife's  did." 

"Which  is  their  wagon?"  Brand  asked.  "I  only 
want  to  talk  to  their  hired  man.  No  need  to  disturb 
the  ladies." 

"It's  right  over  there."  The  man  pointed  to  the 
left.  "No,  it  ain't  neither!  Funny  how  you  get 
turned  round  sometimes." 

He  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  took  his  bearings. 
Then  he  faced  the  Brands.  "Dod  bing  it!"  he  said, 
"it's  gone !" 


CHAPTER  VI 

UNCLE  TOBY  HAS  A  PLAN 

WHILE  Di  was  talking  to  Sam  Brand  on  the 
bank  near  the  river,  Uncle  Toby  was  assisting 
Mrs.  Carter  to  prepare  the  evening  meal.  In 
spite  of  the  rough  life  they  were  leading,  the  old 
darky  continued  to  wait  upon  the  "ladies"  with  all 
the  ceremony  he  could  muster. 

"We  all  is  still  Carters,  no  matter  how  we  is 
livin',"  he  insisted,  and  had  he  been  given  his  own 
way  neither  his  mistress  nor  her  daughter  would 
have  done  a  stroke  of  work. 

This  emigrant  experience  with  its  primitive  and 
rude  mode  of  existence  puzzled  him. 

'^I's  been  born  a  gem'mans  gem'man,"  he  would 
reiterate.  "I  ain't  no  cook  and  I  ain't  no  coachman, 
but  here  I  is  fryin'  flap-jacks  and  drivin'  a  spike' 
team  o'  white  mules!  What  we  all  is  comin'  to  I 
dunno." 

He  had  been  Charles  Carter's  body-servant  In 
the  old  days  on  the  Virginia  plantation  and  had  fol- 
lowed his  master's  fortunes  devotedly  ever  since. 
And  no  greater  proof  could  have  been  given  of  his 
trustworthiness  than  the  fact  that  the  faithful  negro 

67 


68  Diantha's  Quest 

was  left  behind  to  care  for  Mrs.  Carter  and  her 
daughter  whenever  the  wandering  husband  and 
father  set  out  upon  one  of  his  trapping  and  explor- 
ing expeditions. 

But  this  did  not  prevent  Uncle  Toby  from  pro- 
testing on  every  occasion. 

*'You-all  might  think  I  was  an  oV  man,  Marse 
Charles,"  he  would  say.  *What  call  has  you  to 
leave  Uncle  Toby  behind  wif  the  ladies?  Who's 
gwine  to  bring  you  your  shavin'  water  in  the  morn- 
ings? Tha's  what  I  want  to  know.  Who  is  gwine 
keep  your  things  in  order?  I  tell  you  p'intedly,  sir, 
you  ain't  no  ways  fittin'  to  do  it  yourself.  You-all 
is  bound  to  come  back  in  rags." 

But  in  spite  of  his  grumbling  Uncle  Toby  stayed, 
and  he  was  invaluable  to  Mrs.  Carter.  His  de- 
votion to  her  interests  was  unflagging  and,  because 
he  possessed  a  certain  shrewd  commonsense,  his 
advice  and  opinions  were  of  real  value.  He  might 
complain  that  it  was  not  "fittin*  "  for  a  Carter  to 
submit  to  such  privations  as  they  were  forced  to 
face  in  the  emigrant  camp,  but  he  knew  why  these 
privations  were  endured  and  was  ready  to  bear  his 
share  of  them  with  surprising  fortitude. 

"What  Ts  pinin'  to  know,  ll'l  Miss,"  he  said  to 
Mrs.  Carter  as  he  poked  a  slab  of  wood  into  the 
small  sheet-iron  stove,  "is  how  long  we  Is  gwine  to 
stay  here?" 

"It  doesn't  seem  as  if  we  would  ever  get  away," 
Mrs.  Carter  replied  desperately. 


Uncle  Toby  Has  a  Plan  69 

"But  we  is  'bliged  to  go,"  the  old  negro  insisted. 
"When  us  Carters  set  our  hands  to  do  a  thing,  there 
ain't  no  turnin'  back.  No,  ma'am!  We  is  jest 
'bliged  to  go  to  this  "here  California." 

They  were  still  discussing  the  matter  when  Di- 
antha  arrived,  her  face  slightly  flushed  and  a  look 
of  determination  in  her  eyes. 

"Mama,"  she  burst  out,  "I  can't  stand  it  any 
longer.     We  must  start,  or  we'll  never  get  away." 

*But,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Carter,  much  dis- 
tressed, "what  can  we  do  if  no  one  will  take  us?" 

"This  here  trail  is  free  for  all,  li'l  Miss,"  Uncle 
Toby  put  in.  "If  there  ain't  no  party  wantin'  us, 
why  we  all  has  got  to  go  by  we's  lonesome.  There's 
no  two  ways  about  that!" 

"That's  just  what  I  say.  Uncle  Toby,"  Di  ex- 
claimed vehemently.  "It's  foolish  to  put  it  off  a  day 
longer.    Let's  start  at  sunrise  tomorrow." 

"No,  no!"  cried  Mrs.  Carter  in  alarm.  *I  can't 
take  such  a  risk.  Your  father  would  never  sanction 
it." 

"Marse  Charles  hasn't  never  held  back  'count  o' 
risks/*  Uncle  Toby  looked  cunningly  from  one  to  the 
other  of  his  charges.  "But  I  ain't  aimin'  to  run  you 
all  into  danger,  if  I  can  he'p  it.  I's  got  a  plan, — ^but 
you  ladies  is  served.  Eat  your  supper  while  it's  hot, 
and  then  I'll  tell  you  about  it." 

"Tell  us  while  we  eat,"  Di  insisted,  eager  to 
learn  of  any  possible  way  to  make  the  start. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Uncle  Toby,  sinking  his  voice 


70  Diantha's  Quest 

almost  to  a  whisper.  "There's  two  ways  it  mought 
be  done  without  what  you  might  call  much  risk. 
We  could  wait  till  the  next  big  train  sets  out  and 
then  trail  along  behin'  'em,  aimin'  never  to  let 
'em  out  of  our  sight; — but  I  never  did  like  folks 
that  tagged  along  where  they  wasn't  invited.  No'm, 
I  didn't!  An'  it  ain't  no  place  for  Carters  to  ride 
in  the  dust  these  here  poor  white  trash  stir  up." 

Uncle  Toby  was  an  aristocrat  through  and 
through,  and  had  the  southern  house-servant's  con- 
tempt for  the  uneducated  white. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Mrs.  Carter  thoughtfully. 
"I  don't  propose  to  let  pride  stand  in  the  way  of  my 
reaching  California.  This  plan  is  both  feasible  and 
safe.     I  wonder  that  I  never  thought  of  it  before." 

**I  don't  care  how  we  go  so  that  we  go!"  Di 
declared.  "It's  this  waiting  around  doing  nothing 
that  I  hate.  We're  wasting  time  when  time  may  be 
important." 

"It  is  important,  of  course,"  Mrs.  Carter  agreed. 
"But  so  is  prudence  important.  It  would  serve  no 
good  purpose  for  us  to  run  into  danger  we  can 
avoid." 

"Ps  got  another  plan,"  Uncle  Toby  interposed 
anxiously.  "A  plan  what  is  a  heap  more  suitabler 
for  Carters,  if  you  ask  me, — and  it's  just  as  safe. 
Yes,  ma'am,  it  is  so." 

"Well,  what  is  it,  Uncle  Toby?"  Mrs.  Carter  in- 
quired. She  was  entirely  used  to  the  old  man;  but 
his  exaggerated  idea  of  the  honor  of  the  family  he 


Uncle  Toby  Has  a  Plan  7 1 

served  and  whose  fortunes  had  fallen  so  low,  never 
failed  to  touch  her. 

"It's  like  this,"  Uncle  Toby  spoke  earnestly,  his 
expression  of  cunning  deepening  as  he  elaborated  his 
scheme.  "You  know  these  here  parties  mos*  gen'- 
ally  aim  to  start  at  sun-up.  I  aims  to  start  before 
sun-up  and  if  we  keeps  ahead  of  'em  all  day  they 
can't  'cuse  us  of  taggin',  can  they?" 

"Uncle  Toby,  you  certainly  are  clever!"  cried  Di, 
clapping  her  hands.  "We'll  do  it !  The  only  thing 
we  must  be  sure  of  is  that  we  select  a  party  that 
isn't  too  swift  for  our  mules." 

"They  ain't  no  such  party!"  said  Uncle  Toby  with 
pride.  "Them  mules  is  birds.  They  wants  to  fly! 
The  trouble  will  be  to  hold  'em  back  so  we  don't  get 
too  big  a  lead." 

"Wait!  Wait!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Carter.  "The 
matter  isn't  settled  yet."  But  Di  jumped  up  and 
ran  to  her,  throwing  her  arms  round  her  impetu- 
ously. 

"It  is,  it  is!"  she  exclaimed.  "It's  nearly  as  safe 
as  if  we  were  really  members  of  the  party  that 
follows  us,  and  Mother  dear,  we  must  take  some 
risk.    Please,  please  consent." 

Mrs.  Carter,  overborne  by  this  rush  of  words, 
looked  appealingly  at  Uncle  Toby,  but  he  nodded 
his  head  in  agreement  with  Di. 

"Deed,  HI'  Miss,"  he  said,  "we  ain't  got  no  more 
time  to  was'e  projeckin'  around  here.  We  got  to 
get  to  California." 


72  Diantha's  Quest 

And  as  he  set  things  to  rights  after  their  rather 
scanty  meal  they  heard  him  singing  in  his  soft  old 
voice,  "Yo  ho  and  the  way  we  go,  a-diggin'  up  the 
gold  on  the  Sacramento !" 

Mrs.  Carter  and  Di  had  decided  to  live  in  their 
wagon  on  the  road.  This  cut  down  appreciably  the 
amount  of  provisions  they  could  carry,  but  saved 
the  cost  of  a  tent  and  the  labor  of  erecting  it  every 
time  they  camped.  Moreover  they  were  protected 
from  sudden  storms  as  they  would  not  have  been 
in  a  tent  and  they  had  saved  space  by  leaving  behind 
many  of  the  useless  articles  other  emigrants  clung 
to.  Two  such  possessions  however,  Mrs.  Carter 
refused  to  be  deprived  of.  One  was  a  clock  which 
hung  on  the  side  of  the  wagon  and  which  she  wound 
faithfully  each  night.  The  other  was  the  mouse- 
trap which  she  set  just  as  faithfully.  Di,  watching 
her  as  she  had  nightly,  was  moved  at  last  to  ask  why 
she  did  it.     Her  mother  replied  promptly  : 

^'Because  I  don't  like  mice.  Go  to  sleep,  my 
dear,"  and  with  that  answer  Di  was  forced  to  be 
content  although  she  said  to  herself  as  she  shut  her 
eyes,  "Anyhow,  it  sounds  a  lot  more  like  a  thing  Fd 
do  than  like  mama.     She's  so  reasonable." 

After  Diantha  was  asleep  Mrs.  Carter  still  sat 
writing  in  her  journal  by  the  light  of  the  lantern. 
She  had  finished  her  entry  for  the  day  and  closed  the 
little  book  with  a  sigh,  when  she  heard  a  soft 
whisper  outside. 


Uncle  Toby  Has  a  Plan  73 

"Li'l  Miss/'  it  said.  "Can  I  speak  to  you,  ma'am, 
please?'' 

"Yes,  Uncle  Toby,"  she  answered,  and  blew  out 
her  lantern  before  slipping  out  of  the  wagon  to 
join  the  old  man. 

"Why  aren't  you  asleep?"  she  asked. 

"I've  been  a-moochin'  around  li'l  Miss,"  Uncle 
Toby  returned.  "There's  a  real  good  party  jumpin' 
off  tomorrow.  Mis'  Cronin'  tol'  me  they're  goin' 
in  it.    Her  husband  is  at  the  meetin'  tortight." 

"The  Cronins  going!"  Mrs.  Carter  seized  on  this 
point  quickly.  "I'll  walk  over  and  see  if  they  can't 
arrange  a  place  for — " 

"It  ain't  fittin'  for  us  Carters  to  be  behold'n  to 
no  Cronin,"  Uncle  Toby  interrupted  severely.  "And 
more'n  that,  it  ain't  no  manner  of  use!  Cronin 
ain't  of  no  importance  in  this  party,  nohow." 

"That  doesn't  matter,"  Mrs.  Carter  said  posi- 
tively.    "It  is  my  duty  to  snatch  at  every  straw." 

"No'm,"  said  Uncle  Toby.  "No'm,  not  this  time; 
'cause,  'sposin  they  says  they  won't  have  us,  then  we 
can't  go  at  all.  We  want  to  do  jest  like  we  planned 
— slip  on  ahead.  They'll  start  at  sun-up.  We'll 
start  now!" 

Mrs.  Carter  considered  this  seriously  for  some 
time  while  Uncle  Toby  strove  anxiously  to  read  her 
face  in  the  star-light. 

"You're  right,"  she  conceded  at  last.  "It  is  our 
only  sure  way,  and  we  must  go.  We  must  go!" 
She   pressed   her   hands    together   tightly    till    the 


74  DIantha's  Quest 

knuckles  showed  white,  but  once  her  resolution  was 
taken  her  voice  did  not  falter. 

Her  words  of  consent  were  all  Uncle  Toby  was 
waiting  for. 

"I  done  got  the  mules  harnessed,"  he  said  briskly. 
"If  you  jest  sit  on  the  box  and  hold  the  lines  Vl\ 
walk  at  Snowflake's  head  and  see  she  don't  act  skit- 
tenish.  I'm  aimin'  to  get  out  o'  camp  quiet,  without 
answerin'  a  thousan'  questions." 


CHAPTER  VII 

ON  THE   TRAIL 

IT  was  broad  day  when  Diantha  awoke  and  at 
once  the  motion  of  the  wagon  gave  her  a  hint 
of  something  strange.     Pushing  aside  the  back 
flap  of  the  canvas  covering  she  leaned  out. 

Behind  her  were  miles  of  unbroken  prairie.  The 
thronged  camp  had  disappeared.  No  moving  object 
was  visible  to  her  roving  eye,  that  searched  the  hori- 
zon in  all  directions. 

"Uncle  Toby!*'  she  called,  a  little  bewildered. 
"What  has  happened?" 

"We's  done  started  for  California,  Miss  Di,"  he 
replied,  with  a  chuckle. 

"But — ^but  when?"  she  demanded. 

"Las*  night  after  you  was  asleep,"  came  the  an- 
swer from  the  front  of  the  wagon. 

"Oh!"  murmured  Di. 

For  an  instant  there  was  a  pang  of  disappoint- 
ment. She  had  been  looking  forward  to  the  day 
when,  amid  the  cheers  and  good  wishes  of  those  who 
were  left  in  the  camp,  they  would  begin  their  jour- 
ney toward  the  land  of  the  setting  sun.  But  they 
had  jumped  off  while  she  slept!  Di  had  missed  a 
thrill,  but  only  for  an  instant  did  she  feel  regret. 

75 


76  Diantha's  Quest 

"Oh,  Mama!"  she  cried,  slipping  back  into  the 
wagon,  "weVe  really  started!'' 

"Yes,  weVe  really  started,''  Mrs.  Carter  echoed, 
but  the  joy  In  her  voice  was  tinged  with  anxiety  and 
there  was  a  fear  in  her  heart  that  was  to  remain 
there  for  many  a  weary  day. 

By  the  time  Diantha  was  dressed  the  wagon  had 
come  to  a  halt.  They  were  well  out  on  the  Ft. 
Kearney  trail  and  would  have  pushed  on  a  mile  or 
more  before  stopping  for  breakfast  had  not  Snow- 
flake,  the  lead  mule,  refused  to  ford  a  small  stream 
that  crossed  their  path. 

"This  here  animal's  havin'  a  conniption,  li'l 
Miss,"  Uncle  Toby  called  to  Mrs.  Carter.  "What's 
ailin'  the  critter  I  dunno,  but  we-all  might  as  well 
stop  and  have  our  breakfast  right  now." 

Whatever  Snowflake's  objections  to  crossing  the 
stream  might  have  been,  the  clean  running  water 
made  a  joyous  appeal  to  Di.  Here  was  a  place 
where  she  might  wash  In  comfort,  and  taking  off  her 
shoes  and  stockings  she  ran  down  the  bank. 

But  the  instant  she  stepped  into  the  creek  her 
feet  sank  into  the  sand  and  a  peculiar  sucking  feeling 
warned  Her  of  danger.  In  a  momentary  panic  she 
seized  hold  of  a  cottonwood  branch  that  overhung 
the  ford  and  scrambled  out. 

"It's  quicksand!"  she  called. 

Uncle  Toby  looking  up  from  the  fire  he  was 
building,  shook  his  head  solemnly. 


On  the  Trail  77 

"I  done  tor  you  that  Snowflake  was  a  wise  li'I 
mule,"  he  said. 

**The  wagon  would  have  gone  in  over  the  hubs 
and  we'd  never  have  gotten  it  out!"  Di  exclaimed, 
dismayed  at  the  thought. 

**Not  until  someone  had  helped  us,"  her  mother 
returned.  **That's  one  of  the  reasons  I  dreaded  to 
come  alone."  And  she  glanced  back  over  the  trail, 
hoping  for  the  first  sight  of  the  wagon-train  she  had 
counted  on  to  follow  them. 

"Now  don't  you-all  worrit,  li'l  Miss,"  Uncle  Toby 
put  in  reassuringly.  *'We-all  is  gwine  to  fetch 
through  all  right.  These  here  mules  is  worth  two 
teams  at  pullin\  and  another  one  for  bein*  smart. 
There's  this  Snowflake,  she  done  knowed  there  was 
goblins  in  that  bottom,  waitin'  to  catch  hold  o'  her 
heels.  How,  I  dunno, — ^but  she  gwine  to  have 
some  sugar  for  her  'telligence." 

After  breakfast  Uncle  Toby  examined  the  ford 
carefully.  He  found  the  banks  rather  steep  but 
noted  also  that  there  were  traces  of  brush  in  the 
bed  of  the  stream. 

**There's  been  a-plenty  o'  people  in  trouble  here, 
I  reckon,"  he  said  as  he  came  back  to  the  wagon. 
*'But  we-all  is  gwine  to  get  across  if  we're  kind  o' 
keerful  and  don't  waste  no  time." 

All  three  of  the  little  party  started  to  collect  brush- 
wood and  under  Uncle  Toby's  direction  laid  it  over 
the  sand  in  the  stream,  weighted  down  here  and 
there  with  stones  to  keep  it  from  floating  away. 


78  Dlantha's  Quest 

Then  everything  having  been  made  ready,  Uncle 
Toby  took  his  seat  on  the  wagon. 

"Come  on,  you  Snowflake,''  he  called,  cracking 
his  long  whip.  "You're  gwlne  to  get  your  sugar, 
but  you-all  is  gwlne  to  earn  it  first." 

With  a  shout  Uncle  Toby  urged  his  mules  down 
the  bank  with  a  rush  and  up  the  other  side  so  quickly 
that  the  stream  had  been  forded  ere  the  treacher- 
ous sand  could  halt  their  progress.  Di  and  her 
mother,  wading  in  the  wake  of  the  wagon,  cheered 
happily  and  looked  at  each  other  with  smiles  of 
triumph.  It  seemed  as  if  now  the  journey  had  really 
begun  auspiciously.  A  difficulty  had  been  met  and 
overcome.  It  gave  them  courage  and  heartened 
them  to  face  the  miles  and  miles  ahead. 

"I  think.  Mama,"  Di  said,  as  she  looked  back 
across  the  creek,  "we  ought  to  leave  some  warning 
to  those  behind  us." 

"It  would  be  a  friendly  act,"  Mrs.  Carter  agreed, 
"how  can  we  manage  it?" 

"If  you'll  write  *quicksand'  on  a  piece  of  paper," 
Di  suggested,  "Fll  go  back  and  put  it  up  on  a  forked 
stick  in  the  middle  of  the  trail." 

"ril  print  it,"  her  mother  said,  and,  this  done,  Di 
set  up  the  warning  as  she  had  proposed. 

"You  know.  Mama,  that  brush  is  already  sucking 
down  in  the  sand,"  Di  remarked  as  she  regained 
Mrs.  Carter's  side.  "I'm  glad  we  put  up  that  sign. 
It  will  keep  somebody  out  of  trouble  I  hope." 


On  the  Trail  79 

This  first  day's  march  was  a  pleasant  one.  A 
sense  of  elation  made  all  three  of  the  travelers  glad. 
No  longer  were  they  waiting  idly  while  their  store 
of  provision  dwindled  under  their  eyes.  Each 
hour  saw  them  miles  nearer  the  goal  of  their  desire. 
After  weeks  of  heart-breaking  delay  they  were  at 
last  well  started  and,  while  they  knew  that  hard- 
ships were  ahead  of  them,  they  had  faith  that  in 
spite  of  difficulties  and  privations  they  would  reach 
California  sooner  or  later.  Forgetting  her  anxiety, 
Mrs.  Carter  sang  happily,  and  her  little  daughter 
joined  her  voice  to  the  songs  and  made  merry  as 
they  trudged  along  beside  the  wagon. 

Although  Uncle  Toby  disapproved  highly  and  re- 
iterated that  it  *Veren't  fittin'  '\  Di  and  her  mother 
had  decided  they  would  walk  whenever  the  roads 
and  weather  permitted.  They  wished  to  save  the 
mules  all  they  could,  realizing  that  once  the  mountain 
passes  were  reached  their  patient  animals  would 
have  need  of  all  their  strength.  It  was  no  new 
thing  to  Mrs.  Carter,  this  facing  the  unknown.  Al- 
most all  her  married  life  she  had  followed  her  hus- 
band into  uninhabited  lands,  and  she  had  grown  to 
love  the  freedom  of  the  wild  and  open  country. 
But  with  the  experience  of  the  past  had  come  knowl- 
edge of  the  dangers  that  lurked  on  every  hand,  and 
she  had  done  her  best  to  guard  against  them.  So 
although  she  sang  merrily  and  perhaps  for  an  hour 
or  two  put  aside  her  anxieties,  she  looked  back  fre- 
quently, longing  to  catch  sight  of  the  cloud  of  dust 


80  Diantha's  Quest 

that  would  tell  her  of  the  oncoming  caravan  she 
hoped  was  following. 

The  afternoon  was  still  young  when  Uncle  Toby 
drew  off  to  one  side  of  the  trail. 

"I  Uow,  li'l  Miss,  we-all  will  camp  here  for  the 
night,"  he  said,  and  Mrs.  Carter  was  glad  to  stop. 
At  once  Di  and  she  set  about  preparing  supper,  while 
the  old  colored  man  attended  to  his  mules;  but  by 
the  time  they  had  eaten  their  meal  and  put  the  camp 
to  rights  long  shadows  warned  them  of  the  approach- 
ing sunset. 

To  the  east  no  sign  of  travelers  was  visible.  They 
seemed  utterly  alone,  the  center  of  an  immense 
stretch  of  rolling  plain  covered  with  the  green  of 
early  spring,  and  Mrs.  Carter  looked  in  vain  for 
the  company  upon  which  she  had  so  confidently 
counted. 

However,  that  first  night  passed  without  alarm 
and  daylight  brought  renewed  courage.  All  the 
rich  land  seemed  so  peaceful,  the  sun  so  warm  and 
cheerful  that  they  set  off  again  with  their  vague  fears 
quieted  for  the  time  being.  Mrs.  Carter  told  her- 
self that  by  afternoon,  at  the  latest,  they  would 
surely  find  others  upon  the  road  to  whom  they  might 
apply  for  help  in  an  emergency. 

They  made  a  goodly  number  of  miles  without 
mishap  before  Uncle  Toby  decided  to  halt  for  the 
noon  rest.  The  mules  were  unharnessed  and  turned 
out  to  graze,  while  Di  and  Mrs.  Carter  went  off  in 
search  of  fire-wood,  which  was  none  too  plentiful, 


On  the  Trail  81 

the  bushes  and  small  trees  having  been  stripped  for 
some  distance  on  both  sides  of  the  trail.  Upon  their 
return  Mrs.  Carter  was  overjoyed  to  find  a  string 
of  pack  horses  and  a  half  dozen  or  so  of  men  sur- 
rounding their  wagon. 

"Someone  has  caught  up  with  us  at  last !''  she  ex- 
claimed thankfully,  and  went  forward  to  welcome 
the  newcomers,  who  greeted  her  with  varying  de- 
grees of  embarrassment. 

"We  just  stepped  over  to  see  if  we  could  buy 
some  coffee,'*  one  of  the  visitors  explained  awk- 
wardly. 

Mrs.  Carter  shook  her  head,  puzzled. 

"I  am  sorry,"  she  said.  "We  carry  barely  sufficient 
for  our  own  needs.  I  wish  we  could  help  you  out, 
but  it's  simply  impossible."  As  she  spoke  she  was 
trying  to  account  to  herself  for  the  packer's  predica- 
ment. Barely  one  day  on  the  road  and  already 
short  of  necessaries!  How  could  people  be  so  im- 
provident? 

The  men  turned  away  disappointed,  and  Mrs. 
Carter  called  after  them  half  apologetically. 

"My  daughter  and  I  live  In  our  wagon.  That 
cuts  down  our  space  for  supplies.  I  do  hope  you 
understand." 

At  her  words  one  of  the  party  faced  toward  her 
and  replied. 

"There's  no  hard  feeling,  ma'am.  If  you  can't 
spare  it,  you  can't.     But  it's  been  a  long  time  since 


82  Diantha's  Quest 

we  tasted  coffee  and  what  the  old  man  is  boiling  there 
smells  extra  good  to  us." 

*'Didn*t  you  get  all  you  wanted  at  St.  Joseph?" 
asked  Di,  feeling  that  she  must  have  an  explanation 
of  the  seeming  mystery. 

At  her  words  the  men  all  stopped  in  their  tracks 
and  looked  at  the  girl  in  surprise.  At  last  one  of 
them  spoke. 

"We're  going  to  St.  Jo,  not  coming  from  there, 
young  lady,"  he  replied.  "We're  from  Sacramento 
City  and  thereabouts." 

Immediately  their  situation  was  perfectly  ex- 
plained. It  was  natural  enough  that  the  end  of  a 
long  journey  should  find  them  with  depleted  supplies, 
and  Di  promptly  responded  to  this  explanation. 

"Please,  mother,  let  me  give  them  my  coffee?"  she 
whispered,  and  Mrs.  Carter  called  hospitably: 

"Come  right  back,  but  bring  your  own  mugs.  We 
haven't  enough  of  them  to  go  around.  My  daughter 
and  I  will  be  only  too  glad  to  give  you  our  coffee.  It 
will  do  us  no  harm  to  go  without  it  for  once,  so  don't 
say  no." 

The  men  accepted  this  invitation  with  gratitude, 
although  politely  protesting  that  the  ladies  should 
not  deprive  themselves  entirely;  but  their  apprecia- 
tion of  the  coffee  was  almost  touching,  and  while 
they  were  drinking  it  their  tongues  were  loosened 
and  they  drew  a  rather  gloomy  picture  of  the  life 
in  the  diggings.  They  did  not  deny  that  there  was 
gold  to  be  found  in  California,  but  the  work  was 


On  the  Trail  83 

hard,  a  man  being  obliged  to  stand  most  of  the 
time  waist-deep  in  the  water  from  the  snows,  while 
if  a  strike  was  made  one  day  as  likely  as  not  It  would 
do  no  more  than  finance  him  till  his  next  find. 

Then  rough  characters  were  creeping  into  the 
gold  fields.  It  used  to  be  that  a  man  could  go  away 
from  his  cabin  and  leave  all  he  had  in  dust  and 
chispas  (which  was  what  they  called  nuggets)  in 
plain  view.  Not  so  now-a-days.  People  hid  what 
they  had,  or  managed  to  send  it  in  to  town  to  the 
the  bank  or  express  company,  and  when  a  fellow 
made  a  strike  he  kept  it  to  himself,  in  all  probability, 
instead  of  Inviting  his  chums  in  to  locate  near  him 
and  share  his  luck. 

No,  the  good  old  days  were  gone  never  to  re- 
turn! You  worked  hard  for  what  you  got  and 
earned  it.  That  was  the  chorus  to  all  their  stories. 
But  one  of  the  men  drew  out  a  buck-skin  bag  and 
exhibited  different  kinds  of  gold  to  their  admiring 
eyes. 

**These  are  nothing  but  samples,"  he  explained, 
"a  knowing  man  can  tell  what  section  gold  comes 
from  just  by  glancing  at  it."  He  pointed  out  the 
different  colors  in  the  nuggets;  the  grains  of  gold, 
the  coarse  flakes  and  the  thin  gold  that  was  found 
lying  like  fern  leaves  or  frost  tracery  when  you  had 
cleared  away  the  red  top-soil. 

Uncle  Toby  glanced  over  the  visitor's  shoulder, 
vastly  impressed  by  the  display. 

"And  has  you  brung  back  all  them  horses  loaded 


84  Diantha's  Quest 

up  with  gold?"  he  asked,  looking  at  the  pack-train 
with  new  interest.  The  men  laughed  heartily  at  this 
innocent  idea. 

"Once  in  a  while  they  send  mule  trains  over  the 
Isthmus  with  bullion,"  one  of  them  explained  good- 
naturedly.  **It's  in  no  danger,  it's  such  heavy  stuff. 
No  man  could  stagger  far  with  one  of  the  ingots. 
Two  are  a  mule  load.  So  you  see  it  wouldn't  pay  to 
pack  It  back  over  the  plains.  No,  clothing  and  food 
are  what  our  animals  carry.  We've  come  out  to  get 
some  new-fangled  machinery  for  picking  up  the  fine 
gold  with  quick-silver.  We've  got  to  have  it  made 
and  to  carry  it  back  over  the  Sierras  before  snow 
falls." 

"Have  you  been  in  Southern  California  at  all?" 
Mrs.  Carter  asked  abruptly. 

"Just  where  do  you  mean?"  the  man  inquired. 
"I  was  a  volunteer  in  the  Bear  Flag  Revolution, 
and  I  served  under  Fremont  for  a  while ;  but  it  was 
so  one-sided  for  a  war  I  got  it  into  my  head  that 
It  was  all  over  and  quit  before  San  Pascual,  where 
I  believe  the  Spanish  put  up  the  only  fight  of  the 
campaign.    Was  it  thereabout  you  had  in  mind?" 

"I  meant  the  country  around  the  Santa  Catalina 
Mission,"  Mrs.  Carter  said.  "Didn't  traders  and 
trappers  who  came  by  Santa  Fe  enter  California 
there?" 

"Now  you've  got  me  guessing,"  the  man  replied 
helplessly.  "I  came  in  clear  up  north  by  Monte 
Diablo.     Do  you  aim  to  go  south  to  settle?" 


On  the  Trail  85 

**My  husband  is  there,"  Mrs.  Carter  said.  "I 
thought  it  possible  you  had  met  him  or  heard  of  him. 
His  name  is  Charles  Carter." 

"Charles  Carter  Carter,"  Uncle  Toby  murmured 
reprovingly. 

"I  don't  seem  to  recall  the  name  and  yet,  I  don't 
know.  Charles  Carter?  Charley  Carter?  It  seems 
to  me  I  have  heard  it  and  lately  too."  But  wrack 
his  brains  as  he  might  no  recollection  came  to  the 
man.  "It's  one  of  those  things  that  slip  into  some 
pigeon-hole  in  your  head  and  only  crop  out  when 
you  aren't  thinking  of  them,"  he  said.  "I  tell  you 
what,  Mrs.  Carter,  if  we  have  luck  we'll  overtake 
you  before  you  get  to  the  Sink  of  Mary's  River,  and 
if  this  comes  back  to  me  I'll  write  it  down  so  it 
shan't  slip  my  memory  again.  Not  that  it's  likely 
to  be  of  any  importance,"  he  added,  "but  I  know 
what  store  a  lady  sets  by  news  of  her  husband." 

Before  these  men  went  on  they  begged  Mrs.  Car- 
ter to  accept  a  haunch  of  antelope,  and  advised  her 
not  to  drive  too  far  in  advance  of  her  party;  for 
it  never  entered  their  heads  that  she  was  alone. 

"There  are  Indians  only  about  six  hours  ride 
from  here,"  they  explained.  "This  antelope  ran  to 
us  and  kept  along  by  our  horses  today  as  if  seeking 
protection.  At  first  we  were  going  to  shoot  it,  but 
we  put  it  off  to  see  how  long  it  would  stay  beside  us. 
All  of  a  sudden  it  dropped  dead,  and  then  we  found 
that  it  had  an  arrow  almost  through  it  all  the  time. 
We  waited  for  the  Indians  to  come  and  claim  it  but 


S6  Diantha's  Quest 

none  of  them  showed  up.  That*s  the  thing  that 
leads  us  to  suspect  that  they  are  not  friendly,  or  else 
are  hunting  off  their  own  hunting  grounds.'* 

Mrs.  Carter  thanked  them  for  their  advice. 

"We  will  lay  off  soon,'*  she  said.  "By  tomorrow 
only  too  many  people  will  have  caught  up  with  us. 
Fm  thankful  not  to  be  obliged  to  breathe  their  dust 
today." 

But  in  this  she  was  mistaken.  Again  the  sun  rose 
and  set  on  one  lonely  wagon-top  on  that  great  plain, 
still  green  with  the  first  growth  of  early  spring. 

In  the  morning  Mrs.  Carter  held  a  consultation 
with  Uncle  Toby  to  determine  whether  to  push  on  or 
not,  and  it  was  finally  decided  that  it  would  be  safe 
to  go  forward  for  three  hours,  as  the  Indians  were 
reported  six  hours  march  distant. 

"It  would  probably  be  more  than  six  hours  as  we 
go,'*  Di  reminded  her  mother.  "You  know  these  men 
had  no  wagons.  They  could  cover  much  more 
ground  than  we  can." 

It  was  this  thought  that  persuaded  Mrs.  Carter 
to  keep  on  for  still  another  hour  in  the  hope  of  find- 
ing a  pleasanter  place  to  camp,  for  it  was  her  inten- 
tion to  lay  by  there  until  other  emigrants  overtook 
them,  even  thoug'h  it  should  be  a  matter  of  days.  To 
be  sure  both  she  and  Di  were  more  or  less  broken  in 
to  the  wilds.  They  had  seen  rattlesnakes  before 
and  had  met  Indians  who  came  to  trade  their  furs 
with  Mr.  Carter.  Indeed  it  was  her  knowledge  that 
her  husband  found  that  he  could  not  trust  all  of  the 


On  the  Trail  87 

savages  even  when  they  appeared  most  friendly, 
that  warned  Mrs.  Carter  now  not  to  go  farther 
alone. 

They  made  their  noon  camp  by  a  brook  whose 
banks  were  lined  with  a  scattering  of  willows  and 
cottonwoods.  Uncle  Toby  turned  his  mules  out  to 
graze,  Mrs.  Carter  sat  down  to  write  in  her  diary 
and  Di  looked  about  for  something  to  amuse  her. 

A  tiny  beaten  path  that  left  the  road  at  an  angle 
attracted  her  and  she  wandered  down  it,  expecting  to 
find  that  it  led  to  a  well  or  spring. 

Instead  she  came  to  three  unmarked  graves  and 
one  with  the  taiPboard  of  an  emigrant  wagon  used 
as  a  head-stone.    On  it  was  roughly  carved; 

Sophey  Bessie  Muttons 

Aged  twelve  years  and  nine  months 

1848 

That  was  all.  There  was  nothing  to  tell  where 
this  little  victim  of  the  trail  had  come  from  nor  how 
she  had  met  her  death. 

Di,  looking  at  the  grave,  suddenly  felt  very  lonely. 

**Just  my  age,''  she  thought.  "I  never  had  a  girl 
friend  of  my  own  age.    I  wish  I'd  known  her." 

She  turned  aside  and  gathered  a  bunch  of  wild 
flowers  with  which  she  decorated  the  little  mound, 
then  full  of  thoughts  of  this  other  child  whose  short 
term  upon  the  earth  had  ended  here,  she  continued 
to  follow  the  path  which  now  slanted  back  to  join 
the  trail  again,  making  it  plain  that,  when  the  grass 


88  Diantha's  Quest 

was  so  young  that  the  mounds  were  more  easily 
distinguishable,  curiosity  had  drawn  enough  travel- 
ers from  the  straight  road  to  stamp  down  a  path- 
way. 

She  came  out  at  a  distance  from  the  camp  and  was 
about  to  turn  back  when  a  cloud  of  dust  toward  the 
western  horizon  drew  her  attention.  Shading  her 
eyes  with  her  hand  she  discovered  a  number  of  teams 
approaching  rapidly,  and  ran  to  tell  her  mother  the 
news. 

The  new  arrivals,  when  they  drew  up  with  a  clat- 
ter beside  the  Carter  outfit,  proved  to  be  soldiers 
from  Ft.  Kearney  going  into  St.  Joseph  on  business. 
Their  young  officer,  a  boy  just  out  of  West  Point 
with  no  experience  of  the  plains,  scouted  the  idea 
that  any  Indians  would  venture  to  attack  them  east 
of  Ft.  Kearney,  and  with  this  backing  Diantha,  who 
always  longed  to  be  on  the  move,  had  little  difficulty 
in  persuading  her  mother  to  trail  a  little  longer, 
although  Uncle  Toby  shook  a  doubtful  head  over  it. 

However  on  they  went,  over  undulating  fertile 
plains  with  many  streams  and  much  rich  bottom- 
land. Had  the  emigrants  who  passed  this  way  been 
in  search  of  farms  and  homes  they  need  have  gone 
no  farther.  The  land  here  was  part  of  the  Louis- 
iana Purchase  and  was  destined  before  many  years 
had  passed  to  be  made  a  territory  and  later  a  rich 
state  of  the  Union. 

In  all  the  hurrying  throng  who  traveled  west- 
ward, in  the  years  1849  and  18S0,  it  is  safe  to  say 


On  the  Trail  89 

there  were  none  who  gave  the  future  prosperity  of 
the  lands  they  traversed  more  than  a  passing 
thought.  Their  imaginations  had  been  fired  by  tales 
of  gold.  Gold  to  be  had  for  the  trouble  of  picking 
it  up.  Gold  in  quantities  they  had  never  dreamed 
existed,  and  nothing  less  spectacular  held  any  lure 
for  them.  In  front  of  the  Carters  on  the  trail  were 
many  parties  pressing  forward  with  feverish  haste. 
Behind  them  were  yet  more.  In  such  numbers  did 
they  come  that  the  later  caravans  may  be  said  to 
have  fairly  stepped  on  each  other's  heels,  and  the 
various  large  camps  where  the  emigrants  met  to 
organize  their  travelling  companies  were  soon  so 
over-crowded  that  they  became  hotbeds  of  disease. 
Cholera,  thereafter,  in  many  cases  dogging  the  trav- 
elers' foot-steps  until  they  reached  the  high  altitude 
of  the  desert.  But  they  counted  this  as  nothing  if 
only  they  might  win  through  to  the  land  of  golden 
promise. 

It  was  the  good  fortune  of  the  Carter  party  to  be 
spared  some  of  the  worst  discomforts  of  the  crowded 
wagon-trains  on  these  first  days  of  their  journey; 
but  Mrs.  Carter's  anxiety  became  acute  when  once 
more  they  made  their  camp  for  the  night  and  waited, 
expecting  to  be  overtaken,  straining  their  ears  to 
the  East  to  hear — nothing! 

The  wind  dropped  down  at  sunset  and  the  whole 
plain  seemed  to  flatten  out  under  the  changing  light. 

Uncle  Toby  and  Mrs.  Carter,  both  with  their 
minds  and  eyes  on  the  back  trail,  were  unconscious 


90  Diantha^s  Quest 

of  the  beauty  of  the  setting  sun.  Di  however  appre- 
ciated it  to  the  full  and  at  last  drew  her  mother's 
attention  to  it. 

"Look!"  she  said,  pointing,  "See  how  strange  the 
clouds  are  ?  With  those  little  dark  columns  rising  on 
each  side  to  join  the  bigger  ones  overhead,  it  looks 
as  though  the  sun  were  in  a  frame." 

Uncle  Toby  cast  one  glance  toward  the  west,  then 
he  emitted  a  little  grunt  and  started  out  after  his 
mules. 

"Looks  like  nothin'  but  a  thunder-storm,"  he  said, 
over  his  shoulder.  "I'm  goin'  to  bring  in  them  mules 
and  tie  'em  up  to  the  wagon.  I  don't  want  'em 
r'arin'  over  the  face  of  creation  if  it  comes  on  to 
blow."  That  was  all  he  said,  but  he  did  not  deceive 
Mrs.  Carter.  She  knew  as  well  as  he  did  that  Di's 
little  dark  columns  were  the  smoke  of  signal  fires, 
set  alight  by  Indians. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

INDIANS 

THE  Brands,  father  and  son  went  back  to  their 
own  outfit  silently.  There  was  nothing  they 
could  do  but  endeavor  to  get  their  own  party 
started  promptly  in  the  hope  that  they  would  over- 
take the  Carters.  Mr.  Brand  found  himself  almost 
as  much  interested  as  his  son  in  the  two  **plucky  wom- 
en folk'*  as  he  mentally  called  them.  He  also  appre- 
ciated better  than  the  boy  did  the  risks  to  which  they 
were  now  exposed,  and  he  meant  to  strain  every 
nerve  to  reach  them  and  take  them  under  the  pro- 
tection of  his  party. 

"Don't  worry,  Sammy,"  he  said,  *Ve'll  catch  up 
to  'em." 

And  Sam,  comforted,  replied,  *'Sure,  Dad,"  as 
he  rolled  himself  in  his  blanket  and  went  to  sleep. 

But  luck  seemed  to  be  against  them.  The  first 
delay  was  occasioned  by  Tupper  who,  according  to 
his  daughter  Seraphy,  "had  been  took  bad  in  the 
night."  A  doctor  had  been  sent  for  from  St.  Jo 
and  came  in  the  ferry  that  crossed  at  eight-thirty,  to 
pronounce  Tupper's  complaint  not  cholera,  as  his 
family  had  feared,  but  too  many  baked  beans  arxd 

91 


92  Diantha's  Quest 

dried  apples.  The  invalid,  heartened  by  this  good 
news,  declared  himself  ready  to  go  on ;  but  the  start 
was  not  really  made  before  ten,  and  by  that  time 
another  wagon-train  was  ahead  of  them  on  the  road. 

Then  began  a  series  of  mishaps,  none  of  them 
serious  in  themselves,  yet  all  tending  to  retard  the 
march  so  that  their  first  night's  camp  was  made  a 
distance  to  the  east  of  the  little  stream  where  Di 
had  left  her  sign-post. 

The  next  day  a  real  accident  occurred  at  this  ford, 
for  the  party  ahead  of  Captain  Brand's  train,  which 
had  profited  by  the  sign,  had  not  been  public-spirited 
enough  to  replace  it.  Cronin,  who  had  drawn  num- 
ber two,  and  therefore,  in  the  absence  of  the  Carters, 
held  the  head  of  the  column,  drove  into  the  stream 
where  his  first  wagon  sank  to  its  axles.  One  of  his 
horses,  a  young  and  spirited  beast,  took  alarm, 
plunging  and  kicking  till  it  broke  the  traces  and  ran 
away,  leaving  the  remaining  animals  unable  so  much 
as  to  stir  the  wagon,  imbedded  as  it  was  in  the  sand. 
Help  was  promptly  at  hand,  but  it  took  eight  double 
teams  to  pull  the  outfit  on  to  firm  ground. 

To  Sam  fell  the  congenial  task  of  rounding  up 
the  runaway  and  heading  him  back  to  his  duty,  a 
business  that  Polka  Dots  and  he  accomplished  to 
their  mutual  satisfaction. 

It  was  near  to  where  the  Carters  had  made  their 
first  night's  camp  that  the  S.  Brands,  as  the  whole 
party  came  to  be  known  on  the  trail,  were  met  by 
the  California  pack-train,  from  whom  Sam  eagerly 


Indians  93 

sought  news  of  the  Carters.  What  he  learned  did 
not  reassure  him;  for  the  men  had  been  impressed 
by  the  fact  that  the  ladies  were  too  far  in  advance 
of  their  companions,  as  they  assumed  the  Intervening 
party  to  be.  Still  the  boy  took  some  comfort  out  of 
the  warning  the  packers  had  given  them.  Di  and 
her  mother  knew  that  there  were  Indian  bands  in  the 
neighborhood  and  had  said  that  they  would  lay  off 
till  they  were  overtaken.  Surely,  he  reasoned,  such 
news  should  make  them  delay  till  someone  passed 
them. 

Their  second  night's  camp  was  made  in  company 
with  the  party  which  had  jumped  off  just  ahead  of 
them,  whom  they  came  up  with  not  far  from  the 
spot  where  the  Carters  had  met  the  pack-train. 
This  was  a  noisy,  merry  camp.  There  was  singing, 
and  dancing  with  the  prairie  as  a  floor;  but  Captain 
Brand  quietly  circulated  word  among  the  drivers  of 
his  wagons  that  an  early  start  must  be  made  in  order 
not  to  take  the  dust  of  the  other  party  all  day;  and 
there  were  good-natured  shouts  of  derision  before 
sunrise  next  morning  as  their  partners  of  the  night 
before  tumbled  sleepily  out  of  wagons  and  tents  to 
reply  to  their  parting  jibes. 

"See  you  in  Californy,''  was  the  favorite  valedic- 
tory, to  which  the  retort  usually  was,  "We'll  pass 
you  at  the  next  mud-hole." 

But  the  S.  Brand  outfit  was  off  and  very  jubilant  at 
having  already  distanced  one  of  their  competitors. 

Sam,  boy-like,  was  specially  elated. 


94  Diantha*s  Quest 

"They'll  never  catch  us,  will  they,  Dad?'*  The 
remark  was  in  the  nature  of  an  assertion  rather 
than  a  question  but  his  father  shook  a  wise  head. 

"Can't  say,  Sammy,"  he  returned.  "We're  both 
of  us  in  something  of  the  same  fix.  We're  carrying 
too  much  weight,  if  you  ask  me.  Sooner  or  later 
we  will  all  have  to  throw  over  a  pile  o'  useless  things 
to  lighten  the  wagons.  If  I  had  my  way  it  would 
be  sooner,  before  we've  tired  the  cattle  out;  but  the 
day  when  you've  passed  someone  on  the  road  ain't 
the  time  to  suggest  that." 

"You  don't  mean  we  could  lighten  up.  Dad?" 
Sam's  tone  was  startled.  "Why  what  have  we  got 
that  we  could  do  without?" 

"No  one  knows  what  he  can  do  without  till  he 
has  to,"  Captain  Brand  returned.  "Anyway,  I  sus- 
picion that  the  reason  we  don't  overtake  that  Angel 
Mule  outfit  is  because  they  have  a  light  wagon  and  a 
light  load.  I  wish  we  hadn't  bought  such  a  weight 
of  supplies  in  St.  Jo.  It  might  be  worth  while,  in  the 
long  run,  to  pay  more  for  things  further  west." 

The  meeting  with  the  soldiers  did  a  great  deal 
to  reassure  them  as  to  the  Carters'  safety,  although 
at  the  same  time  it  was  evident  that  they  had  not 
kept  to  their  intention  as  the  Californians  had  under- 
stood it,  for  they  were  still  considerably  in  the  lead. 
However,  interested  as  he  now  was  in  the  race  to 
overtake  that  lone  white  top,  Captain  Brand  had  his 
own  party  to  consider  first,  and  he  made  camp  when 


Indians  95 

his  experience  told  him  that  their  cattle  had  done 
all  that  it  was  wise  they  should  do. 

"Dad,"  said  Sam,  appealingly,  sidling  up  to  him 
after  supper,  **have  you  got  any  objections  to  my 
ridin*  on  a  piece  ?    Polka  Dots  is  as  fresh  as  a  daisy." 

**There  ain't  no  way  o'  tellin'  how  far  they  are 
ahead,  Sammy,"  his  father  replied,  not  liking  the 
idea.  "As  a  matter  of  fact  it's  too  dark  to  see 
them  unless  they  have  a  big  fire.  You'd  better  hold 
back  till  mornin',  then  I  won't  lay  a  feather  in  your 
way.  You  needn't  wait  for  us  to  break  camp.  You 
can  start  on  the  minute  it  begins  to  grow  light." 

Sam  was  forced  to  be  content  with  this,  but  he 
stuffed  som*^  food  in  his  pocket  and  rode  out  of  camp 
before  even  his  father  had  opened  his  eyes. 

It  was  great  fun  to  be  riding  alone  through  the 
sweet  cool  air.  Polka  Dots  seemed  to  enjoy  the 
privilege  as  much  as  her  master  and  exhibited  many 
new  airs  and  graces  to  his  admiring  eyes. 

The  pleasure  of  showing  his  pet  off  to  Diantha 
Carter  was  one  of  the  things  Sam  was  looking  for- 
ward to  and  he  pressed  ahead  eagerly  until,  on 
mounting  a  rise  just  as  the  sun  rose  behind  him,  his 
eyes  lit  on  the  lonely  white-topped  wagon  that  he 
had  been  searching  for,  with  Uncle  Toby's  little  tent 
spread  close  to  it. 

Another  boy  would  have  shouted.  Sam,  who  had 
been  whistling  softly  as  he  rode,  burst  into  a  joyous 
peal  of  melody  that  a  lark  might  have  envied  and 
urged  Polka  Dots  on.    Then,  of  a  sudden,  he  reined 


96  Diantha's  Quest 

her  back  on  her  haunches  and  sat  in  the  saddle, 
straining  forward  to  make  sure  of  what  he  saw.  The 
trail  at  this  point  was  well  marked.  It  stretched 
toward  the  horizon  like  a  new  scratch  on  the  face 
of  the  prairie,  but  what  had  caught  Sam's  attention 
was  not  a  party  riding  on  the  road.  It  was  a  scat- 
tering of  moving  dots  spreading  out  as  they  came 
over  the  grass  of  the  plains. 

His  first  thought  was  that  it  was  game  of  some 
sort.  Perhaps  even  buffalo — and  he  mourned  that  he 
had  not  brought  a  gun,  thinking,  boy-like,  of  the 
feather  it  would  be  in  his  cap  if  he  killed  the  first 
buffalo.  He  examined  his  pistol,  for  he  was 
equipped  as  were  all  the  plainsmen  with  bowie  knife 
and  pistol,  but  he  knew  that  a  buffalo  was  hardly 
likely  to  be  killed  by  a  ball  from  it,  unless  by  chance 
he  was  lucky  enough  to  hit  it  in  the  eye.  However,  it 
would  do  no  harm  to  let  fly  just  once  and  he  urged 
Polka  Dots  forward  eagerly,  only  to  pull  up  again 
within  a  few  rods.  The  light  was  better  now  and 
he  saw  that  the  approaching  spots  were  not  buffalos 
but  Indians  who  were  all  bearing  down  on  that 
lonely  wagon,  where  seemingly  the  occupants  still 
slept. 

For  an  instant  Sam's  heart  seemed  to  stop  beat- 
ing. The  words  of  Tupper  and  his  father  to  which 
he  had  listened  a  few  nights  before  came  surging 
into  his  mind.  They  had  known  it  was  unsafe  for  a 
lone  outfit  to  take  the  trail.     What  chance  had  an 


Indians  97 

old  negro,  a  woman  and  one  little  girl  against  a 
dozen  or  more  Indians? 

And  what  was  the  best  thing  to  do?  Sam's  first 
thought  was  to  wheel  around  and  ride  back  to  the 
camp  for  help.  That  seemed  the  most  sensible  pro- 
cedure, but  meanwhile  Di  and  her  mother  would  be 
left  to  the  mercy  of  the  savages.  He  calculated  that 
the  S.  Brand  camp  was  an  hour's  ride  behind  him 
and  the  little  party  ahead  might  easily  be  wiped  out 
in  much  less  time  than  that.  For  him  to  return 
might  be  the  most  sensible  thing,  but  Sam  never 
even  tightened  rein  on  'the  fast  flying  Polka  Dots. 

And  yet  what  could  he,  a  boy  of  thirteen,  do  to 
protect  the  Carters?  Well,  at  least  he  had  a  pistol 
and  knew  how  to  use  it.  If  Uncle  Toby  could  shoot, 
they  might  defend  the  wagon,  one  at  the  front  and 
one  to  the  rear,  with  Di  and  her  mother  lying  hid 
between  them.  At  all  events  it  was  worth  trying. 
There  was  just  a  chance  that  they  might  be  able  to 
hold  off  the  redskins  until  the  S.  Brands  reached  the 
spot. 

But,  on  second  thought,  was  there  a  chance  ?  The 
more  he  considered  it  the  more  Sam  doubted  the 
feasibility  of  this  plan.  The  leisurely  progress  of 
their  caravan  was  too  slow  to  afford  much  hope  that 
it  would  arrive  in  time.  If  he  could  let  the  party 
know  what  was  happening,  if  he  could  send  word  to 
his  father  that  danger  threatened,  he  knew  well 
enough  that  a  band  of  mounted  men  would  spare 
neither  their  beasts  nor  themselves  in  hastening  to 


98  Diantha's  Quest 

the  rescue.  Yet  how  could  he  send  them  word  unless 
he  went  back  himself? 

He  was  still  galloping  forward  when  a  plan  came 
Into  his  head  and  he  reined  In  his  little  mustang 
sharply.  His  precious  Polka  Dots  should  be  his 
messenger,  If  he  could  only  make  her  understand. 

He  dismounted  quickly  and  turned  the  mare's 
head  to  the  east.  Hurriedly  taking  off  his  red  neck- 
erchief, he  tied  it  to  the  saddle  and  looped  fhe  reins 
tightly  over  the  bow.  For  a  moment  he  stood 
smoothing  the  horse's  velvety  nose,  then,  stepping 
back,  he  gave  her  a  light  slap  on  the  flank  with  his 
open  hand. 

"Take  it  to  Dad,  Dots,"  he  commanded,  *'Take 
it  to  Dad!" 

This  was  a  new  trick  he  had  been  teaching  his 
clever  little  mustang  and  once  or  twice  before  she 
had  done  as  he  had  ordered,  but  always  the  distance 
to  be  travelled  had  been  short  and  Captain  Brand 
had  been  In  plain  sight.  It  was  almost  too  much  to 
expect  that  it  would  succeed  now.  But,  even  if  the 
little  mare  did  not  go  all  the  way,  if  the  caravan 
came  up  with  her  anywhere  on  the  road  it  would  be 
a  warning  to  his  father  that  all  was  not  well  ahead 
and  he  certainly  would  press  forward  with  some  of 
the  other  men  to  find  out  what  had  happened  to  his 
son. 

In  this  lay  Sam's  hope,  and  he  turned  to  walk 
toward  the  wagon  In  an  easier  frame  of  mind  after 
he  had  seen  Polka  Dots  take  the  back  track  at  a 


HURRIEDLY  HE  TOOK  OFF  HIS  RED  NECKERCHIEF 


Indians  99 

steadily  increasing  pace  as  if  she  knew  her  errand 
and  appreciated  the  need  for  haste. 

But,  once  off  the  horse,  Sam  could  no  longer  see 
the  white  wagon-top  except  on  occasional  small 
eminences,  and  it  soon  became  apparent  to  him  that, 
in  that  clear  air,  he  had  seriously  under-estimated 
the  distance  that  lay  between  him  and  it.  However, 
he  hurried  on,  determined  to  do  his  best  to  distance 
the  Indians,  if  possible,  but  growing  more  anxi- 
ous with  each  minute  that  passed. 


CHAPTER  IX 

"sittydolI" 

MEANWHILE  those  in  the  lonely  camp  were 
not  so  unconscious  of  the  approach  of  the 
redskins  as  Sam  had  supposed.  Uncle  Toby 
had  carefully  smothered  his  small  fire  with  sand  as 
soon  as  he  had  noticed  the  Indians'  smoke-signals  the 
night  before,  and  it  was  just  possible  that  they  might 
have  escaped  discovery  had  their  canvas  not  been  so 
new  and  white.  As  it  was  daybreak  betrayed  them 
to  the  Indians  even  as  it  had  to  Sam,  and  the  savages 
lost  no  time  in  bearing  down  upon  the  camp  which 
they  reached  some  time  before  the  boy  came  up  to  it. 
This  was  not  a  war  party.  The  Pawnees  were  at 
peace  with  the  whites,  and  these  braves  were  on  a 
hunt ;  but  they  were  never  averse  to  taking  any  pick- 
ings that  came  their  way,  and  certainly  a  lonely 
wagon  held  out  hope  of  spoils;  so  they  descended 
upon  It  with  all  speed  and  seemingly  in  great  good 
humor.  Their  first  object  was  to  discover  if  the 
party  were  as  weak  as  it  looked.  Single  wagons  had 
been  known  to  have  many  men  attached  to  them,  but 
in  such  cases  there  were  usually  extra  animals  graz- 
ing near  and  the  only  profit  to  be  made  was  by  stam- 

100 


"Sitty  Ddir"'  ' '     '  ;   joi 

peding  this  herd  after  dust  ancf  making  oflF  with  as 
many  as  possible. 

Quick  beady  eyes  scanned  the  earth  around  the 
camp  for  signs  that  white  men  had  ridden  out  to  hunt. 
All  they  detected  were  the  hoof-prints  of  their  own 
unshod  ponies,  and  they  began  to  grow  bold  even 
before  they  saw  the  old  man  and  the  white  squaw 
whom  they  at  first  supposed  to  be  the  sole  occupants 
of  the  camp. 

Mrs.  Carter  and  Uncle  Toby  were  going  quietly 
about  the  preparation  of  breakfast  when  the  Indians 
swept  down  upon  them.  The  old  colored  man  had 
advised  his  mistress  of  their  approach  some  time 
before  and  they  both  knew  that  an  appearance  of  un- 
concern was  necessary  if  they  were  to  avoid  serious 
trouble.  They  knew  also  that  to  allow  petty  thiev- 
ery would  not  help  them,  so  they  divided  their 
forces.  Uncle  Toby  kept  his  eyes  upon  the  mules 
and  harness.  Mrs.  Carter  stood  guard  over  the 
cook-stove  and  supplies,  while  Di  was  posted  inside 
the  wagon  to  warn  off  marauders  there. 

The  first  few  minutes  passed  in  an  exchange  of 
greetings,  some  demands  for  "sugee,"  which  were 
smilingly  refused,  as  was  the  proffer  of  a  poorly 
dressed  doe-skin  in  trade.  Meanwhile  the  braves 
were  looking  about,  mumbling  among  themselves 
and  perhaps  determining  upon  their  next  move, 
when  Sam  Brand's  arrival  created  a  diversion. 

The  boy  had  made  all  possible  haste;  but  when 
he  discovered  that  the  Indians  were  before  him  he 


102  /.  jr,.,  .  .,   ^Diarith^'s  Quest 

deliberately  lay  down  under  a  bush  to  cool  off  and 
readjust  his  plans. 

As  things  were  now,  with  the  Indians  already  in 
possession  of  the  camp  (for  in  Sam's  mind  there 
was  no  place  for  a  friendly  Indian),  there  was  small 
chance  that  he  and  Uncle  Toby  could  make  a  fort 
of  the  wagon,  thus  his  going  down  there  seemed  a 
useless  putting  of  his  head  in  the  lion's  mouth  except 
for  one  thing.  The  Carters  did  not  know  that  any 
help  was  to  be  expected,  and  it  might  be  possible  to 
keep  the  redskins  in  a  good  humor  long  enough  to 
allow  his  father  to  come  up,  if  they  were  advised 
that  there  was  such  a  chance ;  so  Sam  jumped  to  his 
feet,  brushed  himself  off  with  his  hands  and  took  up 
his  march  again. 

Very  slowly  he  swaggered  toward  the  camp,  but 
so  little  did  the  savages  concern  themselves  with 
foot-pass^engers  that  his  proximity  was  unnoted  until 
he  burst  into  a  perfect  riot  of  whistling.  This  he 
did  deliberately  with  the  intention  of  warning  Dian- 
tha  who  was  approaching,  and  it  had  the  desired 
efiect  for  Di  stuck  a  startled  face  out  of  the  wagon 
and  called  out; 

"Mama,  here's  Sam  Brand!  The  whistling  boy 
I  told  you  about!" 

Immediately  the  Indians  began  grunting  excitedly 
among  themselves,  pointing  back  along  the  trail,  and 
those  who  had  dismounted  jumped  qurckly  on  their 
ponies  and,  at  a  word  from  their  chief,  galloped 
away  to  the  east. 


**Sitty  Dol!'*  103 

"They're  going  to  look  the  rest  of  your  party 
over,  Sam/*  Mrs.  Carter  said.  "I'm  glad  youVe 
caught  up  to  us  at  last." 

"But  we  haven't,  ma'am,"  Sam  replied.  "I'm 
a  good  hour  ahead  of  our  folks.  I  started  afore 
sun-up." 

"You  mean  you're  alone?"  Di  asked,  from  her 
place  in  the  wagon. 

"Sure !"  Sam  returned,  and  quickly  recounted  the 
situation.  "I  tell  you,  ma'am,"  he  ended,  address- 
ing Mrs.  Carter,  "I  reckon  we'd  better  organize  our 
fort  afore  the  savages  come  back,"  and  he  rattled 
off  his  defensive  plans  while  he  fingered  the  pistol 
in  his  holster. 

But  Mrs.  Carter  quieted  his  fears. 

"They're  not  hostiles,  Sam,"  she  explained.  "I 
don't  think  we  shall  have  any  trouble  with  them  at 
all;  but  we  mustn't  show  that  we're  afraid  nor  let 
them  steal  anything." 

"Perhaps  they  won't  come  back,"  said  Di,  but 
she  was  mistaken. 

The  Indians,  having  reached  the  summit  of  the 
hill  overlooking  the  camp,  halted  their  ponies  and 
for  a  good  five  minutes  stood  motionless,  outlined 
sharply  against  the  bright  blue  sky,  gazing  to  the 
east.  Then,  wheeling  together  as  if  drilled,  they 
came  racing  back,  evidently  satisfied  that  Sam's 
arrival  was  of  no  importance.  Doubtless  they  as- 
sumed, when  they  saw  no  other  outfit  on  the  road, 
that  the  boy  was  also  a  member  of  the  lone  party. 


104  Diantha's  Quest 

Mrs.  Carter,  with  a  word  of  warning  to  all, 
turned  to  her  interrupted  cooking  as  if  nothing  was 
wrong  and  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  savages. 

Once  more  they  surrounded  the  wagon,  pointing 
out  this  and  that  to  one  another  with  unintelligible 
grunts.  Di,  pushing  her  head  through  the  opening  in 
the  canvas  at  the  back  of  the  wagon  to  ask  her 
mother  a  question,  drew  their  attention,  and  the 
sight  of  the  girPs  red  hair,  gilded  by  the  sun,  had 
an  unexpected  effect  upon  the  Indians.  One  of  them, 
evidently  a  chief,  strode  toward  her  and  tou'ched  a 
curl  lightly  with  a  tip  of  his  finger.  Di  shrank  back 
out  of  sight  and  the  brave  turned  to  Mrs.  Carter. 

"Who  belong?''  he  asked,  laconically. 

Mrs.  Carter  scented  danger  but  faced  the  savage 
with  a  smile. 

"Papoose  belong  to  me,"  she  replied  shortly,  with 
an  air  of  indifference. 

"Huh!"  grunted  the  chief,  and  with  a  nod  toward 
the  wagon  and  one  finger  on  his  own  lank  locks  to 
indicate  his  wish,  spoke  again. 

"Me  buy!" 

Mrs.  Carter  shook  her  head. 

"You  no  sell  papoose  hair.  Me  no  sell  papoose 
hair." 

"Me  buy!"  he  repeated  stolidly.     "Ten  doll" 

"No  sell,"  Mrs.  Carter  replied  calmly,  busy  at 
the  stove. 

"Twenty  dol !"  the  Indian  persisted.  "Twenty  dol. 
One  horse!"    He  held  up  a  finger. 


"Sitty  Dol!^'  105 

"No  need  horse!"  Mrs.  Carter  laughed.  "Got 
plenty  mules!" 

Once  more  the  chief  grunted  and  seemed  to  con- 
sider a  moment  before  he  made  his  next  bid. 

"Thirty  dol?" 

His  persistence  began  to  alarm  Mrs.  Carter,  and 
to  divert  his  mind  from  its  purpose  she  lifted  a 
flap-jack  from  her  pan  and  held  it  out  to  him. 

"Hot,"  she  explained.     "Look  out!" 

No  Indian  ever  refused  food,  least  of  all  flap- 
jacks. They  drifted  into  white  camps,  produced 
from  under  their  blankets  dirty  lumps  of  dough  to 
be  cooked  in  the  whites'  ovens,  then  silently  drifted 
out  again  when  their  cooking  was  done,  usually  with 
any  portable  property  they  were  able  to  annex.  Mrs. 
Carter  under  ordinary  circumstances  would  not  have 
offered  this  brave  her  own  food,  but  the  circum- 
stances now  were  exceptional.  He  must  be  diverted 
if  it  were  possible. 

Sam  had  slipped  over  to  the  wagon  and  taken  a 
seat  on  the  tail-board. 

"See  here,"  he  said  to  Di,  "do  these  Injuns  under- 
stand English?" 

"You  can't  ever  tell,"  she  anwered.  "Just  when 
you  don't  want  them  to,  they  understand  every  word. 
But  you  needn't  worry  about  these.  They  haven't 
any  war  paint  on.    They're  good  Indians.'* 

"Good  rattlesnakes!"  Sam  retorted  sceptically. 
"They  ain't  no  such  thing.  Anyway  I  think  your 
ma  ought  to  let  them  know  my  dad's  comin'." 


106  Diantha^s  Quest 

"That  won^t  do  any  harm,"  Di  agreed,  and 
pushed  her  head  through  the  opening  once  more. 

At  sight  of  her  the  chief  gulped  down  a  mouthful 
of  hot  flap-jack  and  turned  eagerly  to  Mrs.  Carter. 

"Thirty  dol!"  he  grunted  again. 

"Di,"  Mrs.  Carter  called,  glancing  over  her 
shoulder,  "put  on  your  sunbonnet  and  guard  the 
front  of  the  wagon.     Sam  can  look  after  the  back." 

"I  wonder  what  that's  for?"  Di  said  with  a  laugh 
as  she  obeyed. 

"Thirty  dol!"  the  Indian  repeated. 

Mrs.  Carter  shook  her  head.  His  pertinacity 
was  unmistakable.  The  matter  was  no  longer  the 
trivial  if  annoying  affair  she  had  first  thought  it. 
She  began  to  be  seriously  worried. 

"How  long  will  it  be  before  your  father  can  get 
here,  Sam?"  she  asked  the  boy. 

"Maybe  an  hour,  ma'am,  if  Dots  went  right 
through,"  he  replied. 

"Thirty-fi'  dol!"  the  chief  persisted.  His  second 
glance  at  Diantha's  red-gold  hair  had  made  him 
more  determined  than  ever. 

With  slight  hope  in  her  heart,  but  ready  to  play  a 
desperate  game  to  save  her  daughter's  curls,  Mrs. 
Carter  changed  her  tactics. 

"Not  enough!  Thirty-five  dollars!  Huh!"  She 
spoke  as  if  the  offer  were  too  paltry  for  considera- 
tion; but  at  the  same  time  she  offered  the  chief 
another  flap-jack. 

From  now  on  she  meant  to  make  these  choice 


"SittyDol!''  107 

morsels  smaller,  to  feed  the  man  for  as  long  a  time 
as  her  batter  held  out,  hoping  that  good  fortune 
might  bring  the  help  of  which  she  now  realized  the 
need. 

The  other  Indians  who  had  crowded  close  in  hope 
of  a  share  in  the  feast  stretched  out  their  hands  for 
the  finished  product,  and  Sam  called  out  warningly. 

"Your  batter  won't  last  if  you  try  to  feed  'em  all. 
Better  stuff  the  chief  and  tell  'him  to  make  'em 
behave." 

This  was  good  advice  and  Mrs.  Carter  took  it 
at  once. 

"These  all  big  chiefs?"  she  demanded  suddenly, 
and  a  word  from  their  leader  made  the  others  fall 
back  a  pace  or  two. 

Slowly  Mrs.  Carter  cooked  flap-jacks,  slowly  the 
minutes  dragged  by.  Once  a  blanket  tugged  by  in- 
visible hands  had  to  be  pulled  back  into  the  wagon 
and  a  brave,  not  in  the  least  out  of  countenance,  rose 
from 'the  grass  and  stalked  away. 

Twice  Uncle  Toby  had  reason  to  rebuke  those 
who  took  too  great  an  interest  in  the  shining  buckles 
of  his  harness;  and  the  bargaining  between  Mrs. 
Carter  and  the  savage  continued  until  he  made  her 
the  astounding  offer,  "Sitty  dol !" 

Mrs.  Carter  trying  to  keep  her  eyes  from  betray- 
ing that  she  hoped  for  relief  by  the  road,  repeated 
mechanically,  "Not  enough  I" 

Too  well  she  realized  upon  W|hat  a  frail  thread 
she  had  hung  her  hopes.     No  one  was  coming,  no 


108  Diantha's  Quest 

one  I  The  horse  had  turned  aside  to  graze.  What 
horse  wouldn't  when  sent  off  riderless? 

"Sitty  dol?"  The  chiefs  tone  was  menacing  and 
the  flap-jack  batter  was  almost  gone. 

Despairingly  Mrs.  Carter  made  her  cakes  still 
smaller.  If  the  worst  came  to  the  worst  she  would 
cut  off  Di's  curls  and  give  them  to  the  man;  but  she 
was  assured  that  if  she  acceded  to  his  outrageous 
demands,  he  would  know  his  power  and  follow  it  up. 

She  had  not  answered  his  last  offer  and  when  the 
Pawnee  had  gulped  down  another  cake  he  repeated 
it. 

*'Sitty  dol?'' 

**No  want  to  sell !"  Mrs.  Carter  was  scraping  her 
bowl,  almost  at  the  end  of  her  batter. 

"Sitty  dol — or  take!''  the  chief  said  meaningly, 
making  a  step  toward  the  wagon. 

Mrs.  Carter  dexterously  turned  her  last  flap-jack 
and  held  it  out  to  him ;  but  his  temper  had  changed 
and  he  was  not  to  be  diverted. 

"Take!"  he  repeated,  moving  forward.* 

Diantha,  inside  the  closed  wagon,  was  unable  to 
hear  all  that  was  going  on,  but  Sam,  seated  on  the 
tail-board,  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  nature  of  the 
controversy  and  knew  that  it  would  be  best  not  to 
enrage  the  Indian,  yet  his  hand  went  to  his  pistol. 
Then  he  took  it  away  again;  to  kill  the  man  would 
only  bring  the  rest  of  the  band  upon  them.  There 
must  be  something  better  to  do  than  that.    He  broke 


"SItty  Dol!"  109 

off  his  careless  whistling  and  turned  to  the  Indian 
with  an  engaging  grin. 

''Wait,"  he  said.  "Maybe  so  I  get  it  for  you. 
What  you  give  me,  a  horse?"  he  pointed  to  himself. 

In  truth  the  Indian  preferred  to  gain  his  end 
peacefully.  To  slay  and  scalp  on  the  trail  between 
Ft.  Leavenworth  and  Ft.  Kearney  was  almost  cer- 
tain to  bring  down  a  swift  vengeance.  The  offer  he 
had  made,  enormous  for  an  Indian,  proved  not  only 
his  wish  for  a  peaceful  settlement  of  his  demands  but 
also  the  intensity  of  his  desire  for  possession.  There 
was  -no  doubt  that  he  meant  to  have  the  thing  he 
had  set  his  heart  on,  no  matter  what  the  price.  Yet 
the  intervention  of  this  boy  might  save  violence  and 
the  possibility  of  retribution  to  follow.  He  looked 
Sam  over  and  took  his  measure.  Then,  with  a 
grunt  of  satisfaction,  held  up  one  finger. 

''Horse  I"'he  said. 

"And  sixty  dollars  for  her?**  Sam  jerked  his 
head  in  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Carter. 

The  brave  gave  a  short  nod. 

"Let's  see  the  horse,"  said  Sam  briskly. 

The  chief  turned  and  gave  a  command.  As  he 
did  so  Sam  slipped  his  pistol  out  of  its  holster  and 
leaned  back  into  the  wagon,  holding  it  out  to  Di. 

"Defend  yourself  and  your  mother,  if  you  have 
to,"  he  whispered,  and  slid  down  to  the  ground. 

Di,  utterly  astounded,  for  she  had  been  kept  busy 
by  Indians  at  the  front  of  the  wagon  and  had  missed 
most  of  what  had  gone  on,  saw  Sam  go  up  to  a 


110  Diantha's  Quest 

pony  that  was  now  led  forward,  examine  its  mouth 
and  pass  a  hand  down  its  legs.  Then,  after  a  further 
colloquy  with  the  chief,  he  mounted  it  and  rode  to 
the  top  of  the  rise  to  the  east. 

For  a  moment  she  thought  she  understood.  Sam 
was  deserting  them.  Well,  she  could  hardly  blame 
him  for  that.    They  had  no  claim  upon  him. 

Mrs.  Carter  too,  saw  the  boy  ride  off.  She,  how- 
ever, counted  him  clever  to  have  secured  the  horse, 
thinking  that  he  hoped  to  get  away  upon  it  to  sum- 
mon help  and  fearing  only  that,  exasperated  by  his 
outwitting  them,  the  Indians  might  take  a  summary 
vengeance  upon  those  left  behind. 

With  this  in  her  mind  she  joined  Di  in  the  wagon 
where  the  girl  at  once  held  out  Sam's  pistol  to  her. 

"He  left  me  this,"  she  said  simply. 

**He  probably  thinks  he  can  bring  help,"  her 
mother  replied.  "It  remains  to  be  seen  if  the  Paw- 
nees follow  him  or  attack  us." 

But  even  as  she  spoke  Sam  wheeled  the  mustang 
and  came  pelting  back,  while  mother  and  daughter 
looked  at  each  other,  surprised  anew. 

"They're  coming  fast!"  he  shouted,  as  he  remed 
the  pony  in  on  its  haunches.  "I  saw  their  dust." 
Then  to  the  Indian,  "Good  pony !   I  like !  I  go  see !" 

Dismounting  as  he  talked  he  ran  over  to  the 
wagon. 

"They'll  be  here  in  five  or  ten  minutes,"  he  told 
them  eagerly.  "He's  offered  me  the  pony  to  per- 
suade you,  beside  the  sixty  dollars." 


"SittyDoir  111 

"What  in  the  world  have  we  that's  worth  sixty 
dollars — except  the  mules,  and  they're  worth  more," 
cried  Di. 

Sam  and  Mrs.  Carter  exchanged  glances. 

"Couldn't  we  all  get  in  the  wagon  and  hold  them 
off  for  ten  minutes?"  the  boy  suggested,  but  Mrs. 
Carter  negatived  this  at  once. 

"They  aren't  hostile  yet,"  she  said,  "they're  not 
painted  for  war;  but  if  we  don't  give  the  chief  what 
he  wants,  I  don't  know — I  don't  know!" 

And  as  if  to  emphasize  her  fears,  the  Pawnee's 
face  appeared  over  Sam's  shoulder. 

"Sitty  dol!"  he  said  once  more,  "Or  take!"  and 
he  reached  a  hand  toward  Di  as  if  to  snatch  away  the 
concealing  sunbonnet. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    GOLDEN   FLEECE 

INVOLUNTARILY  the  girl  drew  back,  then  she 
turned  a  startled  and  bewildered  face  to  her 
mother. 

"What  is  it  he  wants,**  she  asked.     "Me?" 

"No,  no!"  her  mother  answered,  "only  your  hair, 
dear,  that's  all." 

But  Di  hardly  waited  for  her  to  finish. 

"He'll  give  sixty  dollars  and  a  pony  for  my  hair?" 
she  questioned  incredulously.  "Hurry,  mother,  and 
cut  if  off  before  he  changes  his  mind."  She  pulled 
off  her  sunbonnet  as  she  spoke  throwing  forward  her 
tawny  mane  and  the  Pawnee  gave  a  grunt  of  satis- 
faction when  he  saw  again  this  object  of  his  admira- 
tion. Both  Mrs.  Carter  and  Sam  protested,  each 
after  their  own  fashion. 

"  'Tain't  fittin'  for  a  little  lady  to  sell  her  hair  to 
an  old  savage,"  said  Sam  gruffly,  to  which  Di  made 
answer ; 

"I'd  rather  sell  it  than  have  him  scalp  me  and  get 
it  for  nothing.'* 

"Help  will  be  here  soon,**  Sam  urged,  but  in  his 
heart  he  hardly  dared  hope  that  it  would  be  soon 
enough. 

112 


The  Golden  Fleece  113 

Mrs.  Carter  had  spoken  almost  simultaneously 
with  him,  knowing  well  Di's  pride  in  her  curls  and 
how  she  would  mourn  their  loss. 

"What  would  your  father  say  if  you  sold  your 
hair,  Diantha?    You,  a  Carter!" 

"Dearest,  dearest,  it  will  grow  again,"  Di  urged, 
then  she  threw  her  arms  about  her  mother's  neck  and 
whispered  in  her  ear,  "Darling,  we  need  the  money 
so,  and  it's  such  a  little  thing  if  it  will  help  us  to 
reach  California."  Then  aloud,  "You  both  talk  like 
Uncle  Toby!  Come,  please  cut  if  off,  or  FU  do  it 
myself  and  make  an  awful  botch  of  it." 

Convinced  that  Diantha  was  in  earnest  and  was 
not  to  be  deterred  Sam  turned  to  the  Indian. 

"All  right!"  he  said  curtly.  "But  first  let's  see 
your  money!" 

This  was  quickly  produced,  the  pony  was  turned 
over  to  Sam,  and  in  almost  less  time  than  it  takes 
to  tell  it  Diantha  was  shorn  of  her  crowning  glory, 
her  red  curls,  and  her  mother  turned  away  to  hide 
the  tears  that  threatened  to  blind  her  eyes. 

The  Pawnee,  having  obtained  what  he  wanted, 
made  off  at  once  with  his  w'hole  band  and  when 
Captain  Brand  and  his  party  at  last  reached  the 
lonely  little  camp  the  Indians  were  already  growing 
small  in  the  distance. 

"Guess  we  scared  your  visitors  away,  ma'am," 
Captain  Brand  suggested  as  he  dismounted  from 
Polka  Dots  beside  the  wagon.  "Sammy,  we've  got 
to  give  it  to  you !     This  here  little  mare  of  yours  is 


114  Dian-tha's  Quest 

the  smartest  pony  that  ever  I  see.  She  loped  Into 
camp  and  as  good  as  told  me  you  needed  me." 

"Isn't  she  a  darling!''  cried  Di,  petting  Dot's  vel- 
vet nose.  Her  shorn  head  was  covered  by  her  sun- 
bonnet,  and  in  all  the  talk  that  followed  no  one 
seemed  to  think  it  necessary  to  tell  their  rescuers 
that,  had  it  not  been  for  her  sacrifice,  they  might 
have  arrived  too  late. 

"You'd  better  stop  right  here  till  the  rest  of  the 
party  come  up,"  Captain  Brand  said  to  Mrs.  Carter. 
"It's  as  good  a  place  as  any  for  our  noon  lay-off  and 
we'll  all  start  on  early  this  afternoon  and  make  a 
long  march  of  it." 

"But  I  do  not  wish  to  be  a  burden  to  your  cara- 
van," Mrs.  Carter  began,  when  Brand  interrupted 
her. 

"Hasn't  my  boy  told  you  ?  We  tried  to  locate  you 
the  night  you  jumped  off,  to  look  your  mules  over 
and  make  sure  your  outfit  was  all  right;  but  if  you 
could  keep  ahead  of  us  for  three  days  I  'low  you 
ain't  goin'  to  have  much  trouble  keepin'  with  us  the 
rest  of  the  way.  Hey,  Sammy,"  Captain  Brand 
called  to  his  son,  "ain't  you  told  these  ladies  how 
you  kind  of  adopted  'em  the  other  night?" 

Sam,  very  red  at  being  thus  publicly  appealed  to, 
murmured  bashfully, 

"  'Twasn't  nothin' !  Will  you  quit  you  joshin', 
Dad?"  And  finally  Mr.  Brand,  discovering  that 
Sam's  embarrassment  was  actually  painful,  explained 
to  Mrs.  Carter  that  through  the  boy's  intercession 


The  Golden  Fleece  115 

they  had  been  accepted  as  members  of  the  S.  Brand 
wagon-train. 

This  was  wonderful  news  for  Mrs.  Carter  and 
she  hastened  to  tell  Uncle  Toby  that  their  troubles 
would  be  shared  in  the  future.  The  old  man,  who 
had  never  faltered  while  the  Indians  were  pester- 
ing him  and  meddling  with  everything  they  could 
lay  their  hands  on,  now  came  forward  and  stood 
twisting  his  hat  in  his  hands,  distinctly  worried  about 
something. 

"Please,  li'l  Miss,"  he  said,  "I  don't  think  we  can 
take  on  with  this  party.  I  don't  see  how  we  can  do 
it  nohow." 

*'Why  not,  Uncle  Toby?"  Di  asked,  naturally  sur- 
prised that  he  should  not  rejoice  at  the  prospect. 

"I  don't  see  how  we  can  do  it  nohow!"  the  old 
man  repeated  stubbornly.  "Us  Carters  has  got  to  be 
up  front  in  any  party.  I  done  toP  you  that  before. 
Now  if  we  j'ines  last  we  rides  last  and  I  don't  know 
what  Master  Charles'  is  goin'  to  say  to  me  if  I  bring 
you  tailin'  along  that-a-way." 

"You  needn't  worry  about  that,"  Mrs.  Carter 
returned.  "He  will  be  grateful  to  have  us  taken 
care  of.  And  we  should  be  only  too  glad  to  have 
any  place  in  the  party  to  make  any  objection  to  it." 

"But  you  go  just  where  you've  been  all  along, 
Mis'  Carter,"  Sam  said  anxiously.  "I  drew  number 
one  for  you." 

"Only  don't  make  that  number  one  so  far  ahead 


116  Dianfha's  Quest 

that  we  can't  see  your  dust  next  time,"  Captain 
Brand  suggested  with  a  chuckle. 

Uncle  Toby,  appeased,  turned  back  to  his  mules. 
Number  one  was,  according  to  his  reasoning,  the 
only  proper  place  for  the  Carters.  They  must  lead. 
In  recognition  of  the  honor  he  proceeded  to  give 
every  buckle  an  extra  rubbing  and  to  groom  his 
mules  as  if  they  were  race  horses.  He  appreciated 
the  responsibilities  of  the  position  as  well  as  its 
glories. 

Meanwhile  Sam  and  Di,  petting  Polka  Dots  to 
her  heart's  content,  were  joined  by  Mrs.  Carter. 

**I  want  to  see  your  clever  horse,  too,  Sam,"  she 
said,  smilingly.  "I  wonder  if  it  is  going  to  be  jeal- 
ous of  your  new  mustang." 

"Now  Mis'  Carter!"  cried  Sam,  flushing  hotly, 
"that  mustang  ain't  mine.  I  only  spoke  that  way  to 
the  Injun  to  gain  a  little  time.  I  couldn't  take  it 
nohow.     It — It  would  be  like  blood  money!" 

"I  see  how  you  feel!"  Mrs.  Carter  nodded.  "But 
I  still  think  you  should  have  a  voice  in  the  disposing 
of  it.    What  would  you  like  to  have  done  with  it?" 

Sam  made  a  motion  of  his  head  toward  Di.  Some- 
how he  was  shy  of  speaking  her  name. 

"I've  got  Polka  Dots,"  he  said  briefly.  "I 
thought  she^d  take  the  mustang.  I  could  try  it  out 
with  a  blanket  to  see  if  it  was  scared  of  a  skirt." 

"It  might  be  as  well,"  Mrs.  Carter  agreed,  ac- 
cepting his  suggestion  at  once,  "although  Di  is  used 
to  riding  all  sorts  of  horses.    And  Sam,  it  will  be  a 


The  Golden  Fleece  117 

great  help  to  us  to  have  this  pony.    The  mules  are 
strong,  but  we  must  save  them  all  we  can." 

Seeing  the  boy's  embarrassment  and  inability  to 
reply  when  thanked,  Mrs.  Carter  turned  away  and 
left  him  with  Di,  who  was  regarding  him  smilingly. 
Then  suddenly  her  expression  changed. 

**I  don't  think  you  ought  to  give  me  the  pony, 
Sam,"  she  said  miserably.  "When  you  got  on  it  and 
rode  east  I  fancied  you  were  deserting  us, — leaving 
us  at  the  mercy  of  the  Indians.  It  was  a  mean  thing 
to  suspect  and  I  am  so  ashamed." 

"I  suppose  it  did  look  like  that,"  Sam  interrupted. 
"I  never  thought  of  that  at  the  time.  I  just  wanted 
to  get  on  top  of  that  butte  to  see  if  Dad  wasn't 
comin'  up.  'Course,  if  I'd  dipped  out  of  sight,  the 
whole  band  would  have  been  after  me  lickity  split,  so 
I  never  would  have  dared  to  try  to  run  away." 

Di  looked  at  him  understandingly. 

"All  the  same  that  wasn't  what  kept  you  from 
leaving  us,"  she  said  positively.  "I'll  never  mis- 
judge you  again,  Sam." 

.  "Oh,  well,"  Sam  declared,  "there  wasn't  any 
reason  for  me  to  go.  Those  Injuns  weren't  on  the 
war-path.  Beside,  wasn't  there  your  fairy  grand- 
mother to  count  on?  Only,  for  the  life  of  me,  I 
can't  see  why  she  didn't  come  along  in  time  to  save 
your  hair." 

"Godmother,  Sam!  Godmother!"  Di  said  laugh- 
ing heartily.  "Why,  she  was  doing  just  wonders  for 
me  all  the  time.     Certainly  I  was  rather  proud  of 


118  Diari'tha's  Quest 

them,  but  youVe  no  idea  what  a  bother  my  curls 
were;  and  I  think  if  Vd  had  three  wishes  the  second 
and  third  would  have  been  for  a  horse  and  money." 

"Of  course  I  saw  you  were  set  on  it  or  I  never 
would  have  give'  up  fighting  for  your  hair." 

"I  was  set  on  it,"  Di  agreed,  "terribly  set.  But 
even  if  I  hadn't  been  I  would  probably  have  had  to 
cut  if  off  in  the  end.  That  Indian  had  made  up  his 
mind  that  he  wanted  it  and  he  would  have  hung  on 
our  trail  till  he  got  it  somehow  or  other,  I'm  sure 
of  that.  Now  we're  rid  of  him  for  good  and  all; 
but  it's  rather  turning  things  round,  isn't  it,  for 
Argonauts  to  lose  the  Golden  Fleece?"  She  laughed 
at  this  fancy  and  Sam  looked  at  her  uncompre- 
hendingly. 

"What  is  'Argonauts' ?"  he  asked.  "I  know  that 
they  call  the  gold-seekers  that,  because  I  read  it  in 
some  of  the  papers,  but  it's  sort  of  a  funny  name, 
ain't  It?" 

"It's  Greek,"  Di  replied.  "It's  taken  from  a  sort 
of  Greek  fairy  tale." 

"Do  you  know  it?"  Sam  asked,  his  eyes  begin- 
ning to  shine.    "Can  you  talk  Greek?" 

"No,  Indeed  I  can't,"  Di  answered.  "But  these 
stories  have  been  translated  by  people  who  can,  and 
Papa  loves  them  and  has  told  them  to  me  so  often 
that  I  remember  them  pretty  well.  Shall  I  tell  you 
this  one?" 

"Oh,  please,"  returned  Sam  longingly. 

"Well,  there  was  a  Prince,  called  Jason,  whose 


The  Golden  Fleece  119 

father's  throne  had  been  stolen  from  him,  so  the 
boy  had  to  seek  his  own  fortune.  After  many  ad- 
ventures, which  I  won't  stop  to  tell  you  now,  he 
came  into  his  father's  lost  kingdom,  which  was  still 
ruled  over  by  King  Pelias,  the  man  w*ho  had  usurped 
the  throne.  Jason  had  dropped  a  sandal  by  the 
way  and  came  into  the  King's  presence  with  one  foot 
bare. 

"Now  it  had  been  foretold  to  King  Pelias  that 
he  would  be  dethroned  by  a.  man  with  but  one  sandal, 
so  when  he  saw  Jason  he  knew  that  this  must  be 
the  man  and  planned  to  rid  himself  of  Jason  by  set- 
ting him  an  impossible  task.  This  was  to  go  in  quest 
of  the  Golden  Fleece. 

"Jason  agreed  to  bring  this  to  the  King  if  in 
return  he  would  then  give  him  back  the  throne,  and 
he  had  a  boat  made,  a  galley  of  fifty  oars,  with  a 
figure-head  carved  out  of  a  branch  of  the  wonderful 
Talking  Oak  Tree,  which  gave  him  wise  counsel. 
He  called  this  galley  the  Argo. 

"Next  he  summoned  the  heroes  of  Greece  to  his 
aid,  Hercules,  Castor  and  Pollux,  Theseus  and 
Orpheus,  and  lots  of  others.  And,  after  the  most 
wonderful  adventures,  where  they  relieved  the  op- 
pressed and  slew  giants,  Jason,  helped  by  Medea,  an 
enchantress,  got  the  better  of  the  brazen  bulls  and 
fiery  dragon  that  guarded  the  Fleece  for  her  father. 
King  ^etes.  He  seized  the  Fleece  and  sailed  safely 
away  before  King  ^etes  had  a  chance  to  burn  the 
Argo  as  he  had  planned  to  do.    And,  because  of  the 


120  Diantha's  Quest 

name  of  the  boat,  all  those  men  who  went  to  seek 
the  Golden  Fleece  are  known  as  Argonauts." 

Di  paused  for  breath. 

Sam  had  listened,  almost  afraid  to  move  lest  he 
should  miss  a  word. 

"I    see   now,"    he  said   slowly.      **We're   Argo- 
nauts, too,  because  we're  after  gold."  Then  struck  by 
a  sudden  thought.    "Why  don't  you  call  the  mustang 
Argo?    It  would  be  a  grand  name  for  it." 

"I  was  wondering  what  to  call  it,"  Di  said. 
"Argo  it  shall  be."  She  reached  out  a  hand  to  the 
pony,  which,  unused  to  petting,  at  first  threw  up  its 
head  sharply,  but  soon  discovered  that  no  harm  was 
meant  and  munched  a  bunch  of  grass  held  out  to  it. 

**Do  all  the  different  countries  have  fairy  tales  of 
their  own?"  Sam  asked  wistfully.  **And  can  you 
read  about  'em?  I  never  saw  many  books  except 
my  school  books,"  he  added. 

"Yes,"  said  Di,  **I  believe  all  countries  have  such 
stories,  but  most  of  the  ones  I  know  I  learned 
from  my  father,  not  from  books." 

"Then  they  must  be  true,"  Sam  said  positively. 
"People  wouldn't  remember  lies  all  these  years." 

"Let's  hobble  the  ponies  and  turn  them  out  to 
graze,"  Di  suggested,  with  a  sudden  change  of 
subject.  "I'll  have  to  take  care  of  Argo  myself. 
Uncle  Toby  has  enough  to  do  with  Salt  and  Sugar 
and  Snowflake." 

"I'll  help  you,"  said  Sam.  "I  haven't  any  work  to 
speak  of." 


The  Golden  Fleece  121 

"You'll  have  to  help  me  with  something  else  too," 
Di  hinted  mysteriously.  *'I  want  to  find  a  wishing- 
well." 

"A  wishing-well  ?"  Sam's  tone  was  incredulous  but 
at  once  he  altered  it.  He  was  ready  to  believe  any- 
thing Diantha  believed.     "Is  there  such  a  thing?" 

"Yes,"  Di  declared,  "there  isl  Don't  you  re- 
member what  the  good  fairy  promised  at  my 
christening?  But  we've  got  to  be  very  careful  what 
we  wish.  A  person  may  find  himself  in  trouble,  like 
the  rich  man  and  his  wife  in  the  story." 

"How  was  that?"  asked  Sam,  all  eagerness  at  the 
suggestion  of  another  tale. 

"Oh,  once  upon  a  time  there  were  two  brothers, 
one  rich,  one  poor.  A  beggar  walking  by  asked 
lodging  from  the  rich  man,  who  refused  to  open 
his  door  and  take  her  in.  But  next  day  when  he 
saw  a  pretty  cottage  where  his  brother's  wretched 
hovel  had  stood  he  went  over  and  inquired  how  it 
came  about  and  was  told  that  a  fairy  they  had 
sheltered  had  granted  them  three  wishes.  They  had 
wished  for  good  health,  their  daily  food,  and  a 
clean,  new  cottage. 

"The  rich  brother  told  them  what  stupids  he 
thought  them  not  to  wish  for  great  wealth  and  a 
fine  castle  while  t*hey  were  about  it.  Then  he  had 
his  horse  saddled  and  rode  off  to  catch  up  with  the 
fairy. 

"He  overtook  her  and  made  excuses  for  not  let- 
ting her  in  the  night  before,  vowing  that  he  couldn't 


122  Diantha's  Quest 

find  the  key  of  the  door;  and  at  last,  whether  she 
believed  him  or  not,  she  granted  his  wife  and  him 
three  wishes,  just  as  she  had  his  brother  and  sister- 
in-law.*' 

*'I  wouldn't  have  given  him  a  thing!"  Sam  broke 
in  indignantly. 

"Fairies  are  very  wise,"  returned  Di.  "Perhaps 
she  knew  what  use  they  would  make  of  their  wishes. 
At  any  rate,  listen  to  the  rest  of  the  story!" 

"The  man  rode  home  in  haste  and  boasted  to 
his  wife  of  his  success. 

"  *But  now,'  he  said,  *we  must  be  very  careful.  We 
have  only  three  wishes  and  we  want  to  make  sure 
that  we  get  all  we  can  out  of  them.' 

"His  wife  began  to  complain  that  he  hadn't  asked 
for  a  dozen  wishes  while  he  was  about  it,  but  he  bade 
her  be  silent  and  go  fetch  him  some  lunch  to  his 
study  where  he  was  going  to  plan  the  whole  matter. 
She  came  a  few  moments  later  with  a  tray  which  he 
looked  at  greatly  dissatisfied,  for  he  was  a  greedy 
person. 

"  *Is  that  all  you've  brought  me  ?'  he  asked.  *Why 
can't  I  have  some  of  that  good  bag-pudding  we  had 
for  supper  last  night  ?' 

"  *My  dear,'  his  wife  told  him,  *the  servants  ate 
every  scrap  of  it.     Come,  try  this  sausage.* 

"  *I  don't  want  sausage !'  he  interrupted.  *What  I 
want  is  cold  bag-pudding.  It  is  very  hard  when  I 
am  trying  to  think  that  I  can't  have  the  sort  of  food 
I  need.' 


The  Golden  Fleece  123 

"  *Well,*  said  his  wife,  'I  wish  I  had  a  bag-pudding 
a  yard  long  for  you.' 

"Of  course  as  the  words  left  her  mouth  a  most 
wonderful,  big  bag-pudding  dropped  down  on  the 
table  in  front  of  them.  But  at  sight  of  it  the  man 
flew  into  a  rage. 

"  *You  stupid!'  he  cried.  'To  waste  one  of  our 
precious  wishes!  For  my  part  I  wish  the  pudding 
was  stuck  fast  to  your  nose  for  your  pains !'  '' 

"And  it  was,  I  bet!"  cried  Sam,  roaring  with 
laughter. 

"Yes,''  said  Diantha,  "Then,  seeing  what  he  had 
done,  the  man  tried  to  pacify  his  wife  by  telling  her 
he  was  about  to  wish  for  the  riches  of  an  emperor 
and  would  then  take  her  to  the  wisest  doctor  in  the 
world  to  have  her  nose  cut  off,  for  he  knew  right 
well  that  the  pudding  would  stick  to  it  forever. 

"  *You  can  have  an  emerald  nose,  my  dear,  or  a 
ruby  one,'  he  reminded  her,  hut  the  woman  would 
not  listen  to  reason. 

"  *My  own  nose  suits  me,'  she  said.  What  good 
would  a^ll  the  wealth  you  talk  of  be  to  me  if  I  had 
to  go  through  life  without  a  nose  or  with  a  yard  of 
pudding  stuck  to  me?  My  wishes  are  as  good  as 
yours,  and  I  wish,  right  now,  that  this  pudding  may 
fly  out  of  the  window  where  we  will  never  see  it 
again.' 

"And,  at  her  words,  all  they  had  left  to  remind 
them  of  the  three  fairy  wishes  was  some  broken 
gla»s  and  a  big  hole  in  their  window  panes." 


124  Diantha's  Quest 

"That  was  a  fine  story,"  said  Sam.  "Are  you 
sure  there  are  such  things  now-a-days  as  wishing- 
wells?" 

"Yes/'  answered  Diantha,  "there  really  are,  and  I 
feel  sure  we'll  find  one  if  you'll  help  me.  Here 
comes  the  wagon-train." 

Sure  enough,  the  first  teams  were  just  driving 
over  the  brow  of  the  little  hill;  but  before  they  came 
up  Di  had  time  to  add: 

"Remember  we  shall  have  to  be  very  careful. 
We'll  only  have  one  wish  apiece  at  a  wishing-well." 

"I  know  what  I  want  most,"  Sam  returned  con- 
fidently. 

"And  so  do  I,"  declared  Diantha,  softly. 


CHAPTER  XI 

LITTLE  TIMMY  CRONIN 

AMID  a  vast  amount  of  shouting  and  noise  the 
^S.  Brand  wagon-train  came  to  a  halt  at)out 
the  Carter  outfit.  There  was  an  instant  de- 
mand for  an  explanation  of  Polka  Dots*  exploit, 
and  at  the  first  mention  of  Indians  a  volley  of  ex- 
cited questions  filled  the  air.  Sam  found  himself 
the  center  of  an  eager  group  of  men  and  women  who 
insisted  upon  minute  details,  and  the  boy  soon 
became  something  of  a  hero,  much  to  his  embarrass- 
ment. 

Di,  however,  had  been  called  away  by  an  anxious- 
eyed  woman  who  beckoned  to  her  from  the  back  of 
a  wagon. 

"What  is  it,  Mrs.  Cronin?"  the  girl  asked,  noting 
the  other's  distress. 

"Where's  your  ma?     I'm  needin'  her  sorely." 

"Is  it  the  baby?" 

"Aye,  that  it  is  I"  Mrs.  Cronin  mourned.  "He's 
in  knots  with  the  pain  all  last  night  and  this  mornin', 
and  no  one  able  to  ease  him.  Fetch  your  ma,  quick, 
dearie,  for  the  love  o'  Heaven.  I'm  fearin'  me 
little  Timmy  will  pass  away,  and  I  have  no  help 
with  him." 

125 


126  Diantha^s  Quest 

"ril  get  her  at  once,"  Di  answered  as  she  started 
off.  "Don't  you  worry,  Mrs.  Cronin,  mama  will 
know  what  to  do,"  and  a  few  minutes  later  she  was 
back  with  Mrs.  Carter,  who  carried  her  precious 
medicine  case. 

"Di,"  she  commanded  after  one  look  at  the  ail- 
ing infant,  "run  and  bring  our  kettle  of  hot  water 
at  once.    Hurry  now!" 

The  girl  raced  back  to  the  wagon  and  grabbed 
the  kettle  off  the  stove  from  under  Uncle  Toby's 
astonished  eyes. 

"Land  sakes.  Miss  Di,  what  is  you-all  doin'?" 
he  cried  in  protest.  "Fm  gwine  use  that  this  minute. 
Hot  water  ain't  come  by  so  easy  here  as  it  is  in  Henry 
County,  Virginia." 

"Mother  wants  it  for  a  sick  baby,"  Di  called  back 
over  her  shoulder  as  she  tore  away. 

"If  li'l  Miss  wants  it  for  a  person  what  is  ailin'  ol' 
Toby  might  jes'  as  well  save  his  bref,"  he  grumbled; 
but  secretly  he  was  enormously  proud  of  his  mis- 
tress's skill  in  healing  and  declared  upon  many  oc- 
casions that,  if  he  had  to  choose  between  Mrs.  Car- 
ter and  a  regular  physician,  in  case  he  required  medi- 
cal treatment,  he  would  insist  upon  the  former.  "But 
I  ain't  one  of  them  shif'less,  pinin'  kind  o'  folks," 
he  would  conclude  with  a  touch  of  scorn  in  his  voice. 

Luckily  Mrs.  Carter's  help  came  in  the  nick  of 
time  for  the  Cronin  baby.  Sam's  strategy  in  send- 
ing Polka  Dots  back,  although  it  had  not  saved  Di's 
curls,  did  have  the  effect  of  hastening  the  caravan 


Little  TImmy  Cronin  127 

to  poor  little  Timmy's  benefit.  Di  pointed  this  out 
to  Sam  some  time  later  and  the  fact  made  a  decided 
impression  on  the  boy. 

"It's  funny/'  he  said  thoughtfully.  "I  wasn't 
even  thinking  o'  Timmy  Cronin!  I  'low  you  can't 
always  tell  what's  to  come  of  somethin'  you  kind  o' 
start  goin'.  I  reckon,  if  Dots  hadn't  gone  back,  the 
S.  Brand  outfit  wouldn't  a-shown  up  here  till  a  couple 
of  hours  later,  and  that  might  have  been  too  late 
for  the  baby,  you  say.  It  certainly  is  funny  how 
things  turn  out." 

Although  Mrs.  Carter's  first  patient  was  the  most 
serious  one  and  taxed  her  energy  and  skill  to  the  ut- 
most, there  were  others  in  the  train  who  suffered 
from  small  ailments  and  were  glad  of  her  advice  and 
treatment.  So,  instead  of  getting  back  at  once  to 
her  own  wagon,  she  was  stopped  a  number  of  times 
as  she  made  her  way  through  the  camp,  and  it  was 
almost  time  for  the  caravan  to  start  on  again  when, 
tired  and  hungry,  she  at  last  reached  her  own  white- 
topped  home. 

"And  how  is  the  baby?'*  Di  asked,  as  slie  and 
Uncle  Toby  busied  themselves  about  the  small  table 
while  Mrs.  Carter  ate  her  belated  dinner. 

"He's  going  to  pull  through,"  was  the  cheering 
answer.  "He  won't  be  left  behind  this  time,  but  it  is 
very  fortunate  I  saw  him  when  I  did.  It  was  a  ques- 
tion of  minutes,  my  dear." 

"What  is  the  matter  with  the  poor  little  thing?" 

"Nothing  except  the  awful  food  they  give  him," 


128  Diantha's  Quest 

Mrs.  Carter  explained.  **After  all  I  saiid  to  Mrs. 
Cronin  in  St.  Joseph,  what  do  you  suppose  she  was 
giving  that  baby?   Great  lumps  of  fat,  salt  pork!*' 

**Horrors  1*'  exclaimed  Di,  with  a  shudder.  "How 
do  you  suppose  the  other  Cronin  children  lived  to 
grow  big?** 

"I  don't  understand  it,'*  her  mother  admitted. 
"It's  like  some  of  the  darky  babies  on  the  plantation 
who  thrive  in  spite  of  everything.  I  remember  one 
under  six  months  old,  fat  and  healthy  whose  mother 
told  me  she  loved  it  so  much  she  couldn't  deny  it 
anything,  so  when  she  saw  it  was  *jest  a  honin'  '  for 
hot  beaten  biscuit  and  persimmons  she  fed  It  on 
them,  and  they  seemed  to  agree  with  it  perfectly. 
Mrs.  Cronin's  excuse  was  that  she  couldn't  bear  to 
see  Timmy  a  bag  of  bones,  so  she  tried  to  get  some 
fat  into  him." 

"So  long  as  they're  with  us  you'll  be  able  to  keep 
an  eye  on  t'hings,"  Di  said  practically,  "but  now 
you're  going  to  get  in  the  wagon  and  lie  down.  Both 
Uncle  Toby  and  I  say  so.  The  mules  will  have  only 
half  a  day's  work,  and  I'm  going  to  ride  Argo.  Sam 
says  he's  perfectly  safe." 

"But  you  have  no  saddle,  Di,"  her  mother  pro- 
tested. 

"It's  late  in  the  day  to  worry  about  that,  mama 
dear,"  Di  laughed.  "You  know  your  daughter  is 
the  only  red-headed  Indian  in  existence." 

Her  words  reminded  her  mother  of  the  lost  hair 
and  she  turned  the  conversation  to  that  subject. 


Little  Timmy  Cronin  129 

"Take  off  your  sunbonnet  and  let  me  look  at  you. 
I  can't  tell  you  how  badly  I  felt  when  I  cut  off  your 
curls/' 

"Please,  please,  don't  mourn  over  them,"  Di 
urged.  "I  don't  intend  to.  Think  how  much  the 
money  means  to  us.  Why,  I  would  have  given  the 
Pawnee  one  of  my  fingers  for  sixty  dollars,  and  even 
you  couldn't  make  that  grow  again !  As  for  the  hair, 
it's  sort  of  stubby  yet,  but  it  will  begin  to  curl  in  a 
day  or  so  and  I'm  going  to  love  it,  it's  so  cool  and 
comfortable." 

She  took  off  her  sunbonnet  as  she  spoke  and  her 
mother  looked  at  her  a  trifle  sadly. 

"Has  Uncle  Toby  seen  you?"  she  asked  appre- 
hensively, whereat  DI  chuckled. 

"No'm,"  she  said,  "and  he  isn't  going  to,  yet 
awhile.  He  was  on  guard  over  the  mules  and  he 
doesn't  know  one  thing  about  it.  He'd  be  worse 
than  you  are,  and  he'd  never  get  over  reminding  me 
that  'it  wasn't  fittin'  for  us  Cyarters  to  sell  our 
cyurls !" 

Mrs.  Carter  smiled  faintly  at  this  imitation. 

"Perhaps  you're  right,"  she  said,  then  adding,  "I 
will  lie  down,  I  think,"  she  entered  the  wagon,  and 
a  few  moments  later  Uncle  Toby,  radiating  pride, 
made  his  first  start  at  the  head  of  the  S.  Brand 
caravan. 

Di  and  Sam  rode  at  either  side  like  out-riders  but 
they  soon  grew  tired  of  such  close  attendance  on  the 
wagons  and  took  little  excursions  here  and  there 


130  Diantha's  Quest 

over  the  plains.  Argo  was  not,  perhaps,  the  equal 
of  Polka  Dots  in  beauty  and  intelligence ;  but,  as  Di 
pointed  out,  he  had  lacked  educational  advantages 
and  like  most  Indian  ponies  he  was  an  easy-gaited 
little  beast,  so  both  boy  and  girl  enjoyed  themselves 
thoroughly  and  Sam  soon  grew  to  know  Di  well 
enough  to  call  her  by  her  name  without  shyness. 

"I  found  that  word  *Nautilus'  in  my  guide  book,'* 
he  told  her,  "but  it  doesn't  say  anything  about  fairy 
boats.     It's  just  an  insurance  company." 

"I  want  to  see  that  book  some  time,"  Di  said,  and 
Sam  returned  heartily: 

"Sure !  After  we  make  camp  tonight.  Perhaps 
we  can  locate  just  where  we  are.  It's  the  real  Con- 
gresh'nal  map,  you  know." 

The  party  made  a  good  march  that  afternoon 
and  all  began  to  feel  themselves  veterans  of  the 
trail.  After  supper  while  the  light  still  lingered, 
Sam  sought  DI  with  his  guide-book  in  his  hand.  They 
seated  themselves  side  by  side  and  pored  over  the 
map  which  he  spread  out. 

"We've  come  suc'h  a  little  way  and  we  have  so 
far  to  go  yet,"  Di  said  at  last  with  a  sigh,  as  she  re- 
folded the  map. 

"But  we're  on  the  move,"  Sam  returned.  "Don't 
ever  forget  that.  Dad  doesn't  mean  to  waste  no 
time — any  time  I  mean,"  he  corrected  himself.  The 
boy's  ear  was  true  and  already  he  was  refining  his 
speech,  taking  Di  for  his  model.  "Wouldn't  you 
like  to  read  this  book  straight  through?     I'll  lend 


Little  Timmy  Cronin  131 

you  a  loan  of  It."  He  held  out  the  precious  brown- 
paper  covered  pamphlet;  but  Di  refused  it  with 
thanks,  explaining  that  she  thought  it  was  more  fun 
to  go  over  it  together. 

*'Even  the  advertisements  are  kind  of  interestin'," 
said  Sam,  flicking  over  the  pages.  "Look  at  this, 
for  instance.'*  He  pointed  to  the  cut  of  a  neat  little 
cottage,  complete  to  an  awning  over  the  door. 
"Doesn't  it  beat  all  what  people  will  think  of?  That's 
a  rust-proof,  portable  iron  house,  built  to  sort  of 
fold  up,  I  reckon,  for  the  book  says  it  won't  take  up 
much  room  on  ship  board.  What  do  you  think  of 
fellers  buyin'  a  house  in  New  York  to  live  in  in 
Calif  orny?" 

"It  seems  mighty  silly  to  me,"  said  Di  frankly. 
"But  I  suppose  people  buy  them  or  they  wouldn't  be 
made." 

"I  reckon  the  reason  for  that  is  that  they  don't 
want  to  waste  time  on  felling  logs  and  building, 
when  they  might  be  digging  fortunes  out  of  the 
ground,"  Sam  suggested.  "Listen  to  what  it  says 
about  that." 

He  began  to  turn  the  leaves  agam  to  find  his  place 
and  Di  seized  the  opportunity  to  ask: 

"Who  wrote  the  book?     Mr.  J.  E.  Sherwood?" 

"No,"  answered  Sam  seriously,  "not  all  of  it.  He 
only  printed  it.  What  I'm  going  to  read  is  a  real 
letter  to  the  War  Department  from; — er — from — " 
He  found  the  place  at  last.  "From  R.  B.  Mason, 
Colonel  First  Dragoons,  Commanding.    He  was  the 


132  Diantha's  Quest 

Governor  of  California,"  the  boy  explained.  "I 
know,  'cause  it  says  so  somewhere  else.  It  tells  all 
about  how  he  rode  to  the  mines  last  summer.  In  June 
everyone,  almost,  had  gone  from  San  Francisco, 
there  were  even  two  or  three  ships  in  the  harbor 
without  crews ;  and  all  the  way  "to  Sutter's  Fort  he 
found  *mills  idle,  houses  vacant,  wheat  fields  open 
to  cattle.'  " 

**I  think  gold  drives  people  crazy,"  declared  DI. 
"If  I  had  a  home  of  my  own  I  wouldn't  run  off  and 
leave  it  for  all  the  gold  in  the  world." 

"But  you're  going  a  lot  farther  than  these 
people,"  Sam  suggested,  and. he  remembered  as  well 
her  eagerness  to  sell  her  curls ;  but  he  had  the  deli- 
cacy not  to  mention  that. 

"I'm  going  for  something  more  precious  than 
gold,"  DI  said  dreamily.  She  was  looking  toward 
the  west  with  eyes  that  seemed  to  see  visions,  but 
suddenly  she  shook  herself  like  a  wet  puppy  and 
brought  herself  back  to  earth.  "Go-  on  about  your 
Colonel  Mason.    I'm  Interested." 

"I'll  skim  through  It  and  tell  you  what  he  says," 
Sam  suggested,  a  little  shy  at  trying  to  read  so  much 
aloud.  "They  went  twenty-five  miles  up  the  Ameri- 
can River  to  a  place  called  the  Mormon  DIggln's. 
He  says,  *the  hillsides  were  thick  with  canvass  tents 
and  brush  arbors.'  There  was  a  store  there  and 
several  boarding  shanties.  (Dad  and  I  will  like 
that.  We  hate  to  rustle  our  own  grub.)  It  was  ter- 
rible hot  'but  two  hundred  men  were  washing  gold 


Little  TImmy  Cronin  133 

in  ■  the  glare,  some  with  pans,  some  with  closely 
woven  Indian  baskets;  but  the  greater  number  with 
*a  rude  machine  known  as  a  cradle.'  Why  do  you 
suppose  he  called  it  that?''     Sam  broke  off  to  ask. 

"A  cradle?"  Di  was  puzzled. 

"No,  no,"  said  Sam.  "That's  because  it  has  rock- 
ers. I  see  that.  *Rude'  is  the  word  I'm  bothered 
about.    I  thought  it  meant  not  mannerly." 

**0h,"  said  Di,  "I  understand.  But  I  think  he 
means  a  machine  that  isn't  very  well  made.  Words 
do  have  two  meanings  sometimes." 

"They  hadn't  ought  to,"  Sam  returned.  "What's 
the  use  of  makin'  a  puzzle  out  of  what  you  say?  But 
anyhow  that's  the  kind  of  a  machine  this  was,  and 
with  four  fellers  to  work  it  they  made  about  four 
hundred  dollars  a  day." 

"Even  at  that  rate  it  would  take  quite  a  time  to 
make  a  large  fortune,"  Di  said  thoughtfully.  "Does 
he  give  any  more  figures?" 

"Well,  he  talks  of  two  men,  who  employed — "  the 
boy  glanced  at  the  book  for  confirmation,  "four 
whites  and  a  hundred  Indians,  and  they  took  out 
seventeen  thousand  dollars  in  one  week  and  cleared 
ten  thousand." 

Di  gave  a  little  gasp;  but  not  as  Sam  supposed 
at  the  amount  made.    Instead  she  began  to  calculate. 

"If  one  hundred  and  four  men  cost  seven  thou- 
sand dollars  a  week  how  much  does  one  man  cost? 
It  certainly  sounds  like  an  arithmetic  lesson.     But 


{ 


134  Diantha's  Quest 

doesn't  it  strike  you  that  expenses  must  be  very,  very 
high?" 

"It  kind  of  sounds  that  way,"  Sam  acknowledged, 
rubbing  his  head  reflectively,  "but  Colonel  Mason 
seem  to  think  they  find  a  lot  of  gold.  Here  he  says, 
*I  could  not  have  credited  these  reports  had  I  not 
been  shown  the  metal.*  And  somewhere  else  he 
'loVs,  the  gold  seekers  *have  merely  scratched  the 
surface.'  And  another  place  says,  enough  gold  will 
be  taken  out  *to  pay  for  the  Mexican  war  a  hundred 
times  over'." 

Wait  a  minute,"  said  Di,  as  he  turned  the  pages 
rapidly.     "I  want  to  read  something  myself." 

Sam  handed  her  the  book  and  she  searched 
through  it  diligently. 

"Here  it  is,"  she  said  at  last,  finding  a  paragraph 
she  had  glimpsed  as  he  turned.  "He  tells  about  a 
Mr.  Sinclair  whose  rancho  is  three  miles  above  Sut- 
ter's. He  employed  fifty  Indians  and  showed  four- 
teen pounds  of  gold  for  a  week's  work.  So  far  he 
had  taken  out  sixteen  thousand  dollars." 

"That's  a  heap  of  money,"  said  Sam.  "It  would 
pay  for  my  education  that  I  mean  to  have." 

"Yes,"  Di  agreed,  "I  suppose  it  would,  but  from 
May  first  to  July  tenth  Brannan's  store  at  Sutter's 
Fort  took  in  thirty-six  thousand  dollars  for  goods 
they  sold  the  miners." 

"What  of  it?"  Sam  protested.  "It  wasn't  one 
outfit  that  paid  all  that  in.     I  suppose  it's  kind  oi 


Little  Timmy  Cronin.  135 

expensive  to  live,  but  everyone  is  sure  to  have  lots 
left." 

"That  wasn^t  just  what  I  was  thinking,"  explained 
Di.  "My  idea  was  that  a  store  is  more  of  a  gold 
mine  than  a  gold  mine  is." 

For  a  moment  Sam  seemed  bewildered  by  her 
words  and  kept  repeating  them,  parrot-like. 

"  'A  store  is  more  of  a  gold  mine  than  a  gold  mine 
is' !"  Then,  as  the  logic  of  her  reasoning  came  home 
to  him,  he  began  to  combat  it.  Not  to  keep  a  store 
had  he  taken  this  long  journey.  He  wished  more 
spirited  adventure  to  spice  his  undertaking. 

"Oh,  well,"  he  said,  "Pd  liefer  dig  my  own  gold, 
and  'sides,"  he  added  as  an  afterthought,  "that 
thirty-six  thousand  dollars  wasn't  clear  profit.  That 
man  Brannan  paid  something  for  the  goods." 

Di  acquiesced  in  this,  but  she  was  still  thought- 
ful. It  had  become  clear  to  her  that  there  must 
be  a  great  deal  of  labor  involved  in  getting  out  the 
gold,  for  in  all  of  the  cases  where  large  amounts  were 
mentioned  many  helpers  had  been  hired.  But  the 
Brands  were  men-folk  and  could  take  care  of  them- 
selves. If  things  were  as  this  army  officer's  report 
led  her  to  believe  they  would  find  it  out  soon  enough. 
She  skimnied  through  his  letter  again  and  found 
nothing  in  it  to  indicate  that  he  did  not  think  the 
returns  fabulous  and  the  gold  inexhaustible.  Still 
she  shook  a  wise  little  head.  Her  New  England 
inheritance  perhaps  was  speaking  to  her. 

"Here's  something  interesting!"  she  said  sudden- 


136  Diantha's  Quest 

ly,  looking  up.  "Did  you  read  it?  How  Mr. 
Marshall  discovered  gold?'' 

"You  mean  at  the  sawmill  he  was  building  for 
Captain  Sutter?"  Sam  asked.  *'I  remember  some- 
thing about  it.  He  and  Sutter  agreed  to  keep  it  se- 
cret till  the  workmen  finished  his  grist  mill,  too ;  but 
the  news  got  out  and  spread  like  magic." 

"I  think  their  finding  the  gold  was  more  like 
magic,"  Di  suggested.  "If  they  had  gotten  all  the 
water  they  needed  in  the  race,  it  might  have 
remained  undiscovered  to  this  day.  But  they  didn't, 
and,  to  save  labor  in  widening  the  race  and  to  make 
it  deeper  as  well,  they  turned  the  full  force  of  the 
stream  into  it.  Of  course  this  washed  a  lot  of  mud 
and  sand  to  the  foot  of  it,  which  was  full  of  shin- 
ing specks  of  gold — " 

"Miss  Di,  you  is  the  beatinest  child  for  gettin' 
lost !  Li'l  Miss  gwine  to  have  a  conniption  this  time, 
sure." 

It  was  Uncle  Toby,  and  Di  scrambled  to  her  feet 
hurriedly,  giving  Sam  back  his  book. 

"It's  getting  too  dark  to  read,"  she  said.  "Good- 
night, Sam.  I'll  see  you  in  the  morning.  There's  a 
queer,  queer  picture  in  there.  I  had  a  glimpse  of 
it  just  now,  and  I'm  crazy  to  know  about  it.  Come 
on.  Uncle  Toby.  Of  course  mama  isn't  having  a 
conniption;  but  if  she  wants  me — "  Her  voice 
trailed  off  In  the  distance,  and  Sam  stretched  out  on 
the  turf,  his  precious  book  in  his  hand,  whistling  a 
soft  serenade  to  the  evening  star. 


CHAPTER  XII 

BUFFALO 

EARLY  next  morning  the  S.  Brand  wagon- 
train  took  up  its  leisurely  march  across  the 
fertile  plains.  At  mid-day  it  rested  and  then 
went  on  again  until  Captain  Brand  called  a  halt  for 
the  night.  So  day  followed  day  in  an  orderly  rou- 
tine, the  distance  covered  depending  upon  the  condi- 
tion of  the  road  they  traveled,  the  abundance  of  food 
for  their  cattle  and  the  delays  incident  to  the  vari- 
ous accidents  to  their  equipment. 

The  monotony  of  their  lives  made  even  small 
events  seem  important.  A  night  when  a  storm  blew 
down  all  the  tents,  and  soaked  those  who  slept  on 
the  ground ;  a  forenoon  when  eight  rattlesnakes  were 
killed;  or  the  camp  where  both  men  and  animals 
were  attacked  by  swarms  of  mosquitoes  so  dense  that 
existence  was  possible  only  in  the  smoke  of  smudge 
fires — all  these  happenings  were  dated  from  for  a 
while  and  then  forgotten. 

As  a  whole  the  party  was  a  reasonable  and  con- 
tented one.  There  was  little  bickering  and  discon- 
tent, which  was  due  in  large  measure  to  the  good- 
natured  firmness  of  Mr.  Brand.  He  felt  his  respon- 
sibilities and  took  his  duties  seriously.     He  was  in- 

137 


138  Diantha's  Quest 

dined  to  laugh  and  make  light  of  threatened  dangers, 
but  never  neglected  to  take  the  precautions  neces- 
sary to  avert  them.  Without  assuming  any  hint  of 
arrogance  he  nevertheless  insisted  that,  so  long  as  he 
was  the  leader,  the  others  must  follow;  and  those 
who  elected  him  quickly  came  to  realize  that  their 
choice  had  been  a  wise  one. 

In  addition  to  the  endless  talk  of  gold,  Indians 
and  buffalos  constituted  the  chief  topics  of  conversa- 
tion. The  savages  were  feared,  but  the  wild,  shaggy 
cattle  of  the  plains,  about  which  many  strange  tales 
had  reached  their  ears,  were  a  curiosity,  and  the  en- 
tire train  was  on  the  look-out  to  sight  one  of  the  im- 
mense herds  which  rumor  numbered  by  the  tens  of 
thousands. 

So  one  day,  when  a  cloud  of  dust  rolled  toward 
them  from  the  east,  the  opinion  of  the  camp  was 
immediately  divided  as  to  the  cause  of  it. 

"Buffalos  at  last!"  cried  some. 

"It's  Injuns!''  others  maintained,  and  they  ran  to 
Captain  Brand  for  instructions. 

"Well,"  he  said,  in  his  slow  drawling  way,  "I've 
been  a-lookin'  at  that  cloud  o'  dust  fer  ten  minutes, 
and  I  opine  you  is  both  wrong." 

"It's  bound  to  be  one  or  the  other,  Cap'n.  All 
that  dust!"  they  contended. 

"No,  It  ain't,"  Mr.  Brand  insisted  good-humored- 
ly.  "Neither  buffalos  nor  Injuns  ride  the  trail.  It's 
a  big  outfit  comin'  through  in  record  time  or  I  miss 
my  guess." 


Buffalo  139 

**But  we  ain't  been  laggln'/*  Tupper  maintained, 
and  nods  of  approval  from  those  about  him  showed 
that  he  voiced  their  feeling. 

"WeVe  been  doin'  fairly  well,''  Mr.  Brand 
agreed,  "but  we  don't  aim  to  be  no  express.  We  ain't 
organized  for  it.  We  got  away  with  a  good  start, 
but  from  now  on  we'll  have  company.  There's  out- 
fits comin'  that  will  leave  us  like  we  was  standin' 
still." 

These  predictions  proved  entirely  correct.  An 
hour  later  fifty  mule-teams  rattled  past,  leaving  their 
dust  to  choke  the  Angel  Mules  and  to  ruffle  Uncle 
Toby's  temper  almost  to  the  bursting  point.  Before 
the  day  had  ended  two  hundred  horse-teams  had  also 
left  them  behind.  And,  crowning  humiliation,  at  a 
point  where  the  S.  Brand  had  laid  off  for  a  day  or 
two,  thirt}'  ox-teams  lumbered  by. 

Daily  thereafter  train  upon  train  pushed  ahead 
of  them,  greatly  to  the  annoyance  of  Sam  and  many 
of  the  younger  men. 

*'There  won't  be  much  gold  left  for  us,"  they  mur- 
mured, but  their  captain  refused  to  be  hurried. 

"Don't  you  worry,"  he  repeated  again  and  again 
every  day.  "We'll  get  there.  Safe  and  sure's  my 
motter,  and  a  live  snail  is  better  than  a  dead  ante- 
lope. We  ain't  no  BidwelFs  Bar  Express,  but  all  the 
same  we'll  be  passin'  some  of  these  here  fellers  that 
is  passin'  us  afore  a  great  while.  As  for  the  gold — 
There'll  be  enough  for  all  hands." 

But   the    increasing   number   of   emigrant   trains 


140  Diantha's  Quest 

moving  ahead  of  them  did  have  its  effect  in  more 
ways  than  one.  Fire  wood  practically  disappeared. 
At  best  the  natural  growth  was  small  and  these 
hordes  of  gold  hunters  swept  the  plains  bare  for 
miles  on  either  side  of  the  trail  like  an  army  of 
locusts.  For  many  days  dried  grass  and  buffalo 
chips  were  their  only  fuel. 

A  yet  more  serious  privation,  of  which  fortunate- 
ly they  had  warning  from  a  mule  team  traveling  east, 
was  caused  by  the  burning  of  last  year's  growth  over 
a  wide  area  between  them  and  the  River  Platte. 

**We  reckon  it  was  done  deliberate,"  one  of  the 
drivers  said.  "They  didn't  mean  others  to  get 
through,  if  they  could  stop  them.  A  crowd  took  the 
trail  after  them,  but  it  was  no  good.  That  BidwelFs 
Bar  train  had  the  heels  of  'em  and  they  gave  up 
and  came  back.  But  it  won't  be  healthy  for  any  of 
that  outfit  if  they  get  caught." 

This  news  reconciled  many  who  had  previously 
thought  longingly  of  the  Bidwell's  Bar  Express. 
They  were  honest  folk  and  had  no  wish  to  be  mixed 
up  with  one  who  would  be  guilty  of  so  dastardly  a 
trick;  for  in  their  hearts,  all  of  them  held  Yerber 
alone  to  blame  for  firing  the  grass. 

They  cut  fodder  and  fuel  and  carried  it  with  them 
over  the  burned  section,  but  neither  they  nor  their 
cattle  reached  the  Platte  in  as  good  condition  as 
otherwise  they  would  have  done. 

They  had  been  a  month  or  more  on  the  road 
when  they  trailed  by  Ft.  Kearney  where  they  learned 


Buffalo  141 

that  three  thousand  wagons  had  already  passed  that 
point.  But  from  there  they  began  to  find  increasing 
evidence  that  the  pace  was  beginning  to  tell  on  those 
who  were  ahead  of  them. 

Two  of  the  four  Tupper  girls,  who  had  a  pair 
of  raw-boned  horses  which  they  took  turns  in  rid- 
ing, came  in  with  the  first  spoils.  Di  and  Sam  met 
them  as  they  were  hurrying  back  to  the  train  and, 
although  the  day  was  blistering  hot,  Seraphy  was 
arrayed  in  a  heavy  pelisse  of  puce  velvet,  while  her 
sister  proudly  wore  a  beaver  bonnet.  They  had 
found  them  abandoned  beside  the  trail,  together 
with  an  ox-yoke,  two  cook  stoves  and  a  considerable 
quantity  of  groceries  which  had  been  purposely 
rendered  useless ;  for  sand  had  been  mixed  with  the 
sugar,  turpentine  poured  on  the  flour  and  a  large 
amount  of  good  clothing  had  been  deliberately  torn 
to  tatters. 

The  Tupper  girls  gave  these  details  excitedly. 

"It  seemed  like  they  didn't  want  nobody  to  profit 
by  what  they'd  left  behind!"  Melindy  explained, 
"but  when  it  come  to  spoilin'  this  bunnet,  the  woman 
who  owned  it  just  couldn't  bring  herself  to  do  it." 

**An'  I  don't  blame  her,"  Seraphy  said,  stroking 
the  velvet  pelisse.  "This  here  stuff  is  as  soft  as  a 
horse's  nose.  I  never  saw  anything  as  rich,  and  I 
allow  to  take  it  to  Californy  if  I  have  to  throw 
everything  else  away." 

"And  then  if  you  meet  the  girl  it  belongs  to  you 


142  Diantha's  Quest 

could  give  it  back/'  Di  suggested  eagerly.  "Wouldn't 
that  be  fun?    She'd  be  so  surprised  to  see  it." 

"Give  it  back  to  her!"  exclaimed  Seraphy  in 
wide-eyed  amazement.  "I  don't  see  myself  doin'  no 
sudh  thing!  Findin's  is  keepin's!  That's  law. 
There  ain't  no  call  o'  my  totin'  this  all  the  way  to 
Californy  for  a  stranger.  Beside,  she  throwed  it 
away,  didn't  she?    And  it  suits  me  too,  doesn't  it?" 

Di  could  find  no  ready  answer  to  this  and  the  girls 
rode  off,  somewhat  offended.  Sam  who  had  been  but 
little  interested  in  this  feminine  finery,  was  somewhat 
puzzled  at  Di's  silence  and  glanced  sidewise  at  her 
as  they  rode  along  together. 

"Say,  Di,"  he  said,  after  a  moment  or  two, 
"findin's  is  keepin's,  ain't  it?" 

"I  suppose  so,"  the  girl  answered  slowly,  "only 
— "  She  stopped.  It  wasn't  easy  to  explain  just 
what  she  had  in  mind. 

"Of  course,"  Sam  went  on,  "it  wasn't  like  as  if 
the  people  who  owned  these  things  had  lost  'em 
accidental.     They  throwed  them  away  deliberate." 

"Yes,  that's  true  too,"  Di  replied  thoughtfully, 
"but  Sam,  they  were  forced  to  leave  them,  you  see. 
That  makes  a  difference,  doesn't  it?" 

"Somehow  it  seems  to,"  Sam  agreed,  a  bit  puz- 
zled. 

Again  they  rode  on  in  silence  for  a  time. 

"I  tell  you,"  Sam  said  at  length,  as  if  he  had  come 
to  a  solution  of  something  that  had  bothered  him. 
"The  Tupper  girls  don't  see  that  there's  anything 


•THERE'S  INJUNS.  TOO' 


Buffalo  143 

wrong  In  keepin'  those  things,  and  I  guess  they  will. 
Now  If  you'd  found  'em  you'd  think  you  ought  to 
give  'em  back.     That's  the  difference." 

"But  that  doesn't  prove  whether  it's  right  or 
wrong  to  keep  them,"  Di  argued. 

"Yes,  it  does,"  Sam  maintained.  "You  think 
it  would  be  wrong  to  keep  'em  and  it  would  be  for 
you.  But  the  Tupper  girls  think  it  would  be  right, 
so  it  would  be  for  them.  It's  all  accordin'  to  how 
you're  raised." 

"Sam,"  cried  Di,  "I  believe  you're  a  philosopher 
or  something  like  that.  But  really,  you  know,  what 
I  was  thinking  of  most  was  how  funny  it  would  be 
if  the  Tuppers  should  meet  the  people  who  had  left 
their  finery  behind.  Can't  you  just  see  their  faces," 
and  she  went  off  into  a  peal  of  laughter.  In  her 
imagination  DI  pictured  the  scene  vividly  and  it 
amused  her  hugely.  But  Sam  could  not  always 
follow  these  flights  of  hers  and,  moreover,  he  had 
begun  to  doubt  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  that 
"findin's  is  keepln's." 

That  same  evening  after  the  sun  had  set  Sam 
was  sitting  beside  the  Carter  outfit.  He  and  Dlan- 
tha  were  quietly  talking  over  the  day's  events  when 
a  red  glare  leaped  up  in  the  sky  to  the  west  of  them. 

"Look!"  cried  the  boy,  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"What  is  there  to  burn  over  there?"  Di  asked, 
beside  him. 

"There's  a  good  many  outfits  ahead  of  us,"  Sam 
replied,  and  then  significantly,  "there's  Injuns,  too." 


144  Dianlrha's  Quest 

"Oh  Sam!'*  exclaimed  Di,  "could  it  be  that?' 

"Dunno,"  the  boy  answered,  "but  Fm  going  to 
tell  dad/'  and  he  ran  off. 

Others  had  seen  the  light  by  this  time  and  there 
were  many  looking  and  pointing  as  Captain  Brand 
came  up.     One  glance  was  enough  for  him. 

The  wagons  were  always  set  fencing  in  a  sort  of 
corral  to  which  the  mules  and  horses  would  stam- 
pede when  frightened  by  coyotes,  wolves,  or  sudden 
storms.  Orders  were  now  hurriedly  given  to  collect 
the  animals  within  this  corral.  Arms  were  looked 
to  and  guards  were  set ;  then  they  waited,  but  nothing 
happened. 

Finally  Captain  Brand  suggested  that  all  retire 
as  usual.  "It  may  be  Injuns  and  it  may  not,"  he  said. 
"At  any  rate  I  don't  believe  they  mean  to  bother  us. 
We'll  keep  watch  all  night  and  if  they  come  we'll 
give  them  a  hot  welcome.  Meanwhile  don't  lose  any 
beauty  sleep  over  it.  We're  big  enough  to  take  care 
of  ourselves." 

This  advice  was  sensible,  and  all  but  the  guards 
turned  in. 

The  next  day  at  dawn  saw  them  on  their  way 
again,  but  it  was  not  till  nearly  time  for  their  noon 
lay-off  that  they  came  up  to  what  had  alarmed  them 
the  previous  night. 

Brand  at  once  called  a  halt  and  went  forward  with 
a  number  of  men  to  examine  what  they  feared  was 
the  scene  of  an  atrocity. 

Two  wagons,  burnt  till  little  remained  of  them 


Buffalo  145 

but  the  metal  work,  were  the  first  things  that  caught 
the  eye.  Three  dead  horses  and  a  dead  cow  were 
the  next,  but  there  were  no  people  dead  or  wounded. 
The  place  was  deserted.  The  emigrants  looked  at 
each  other,  white  under  their  tan. 

"Took  'em  prisoners  or  burned  'em,  Captain," 
one  man  whispered. 

"  'Frald  so,"  Brand  agreed,  stepping  forward  to 
look  the  dead  animals  over.  Then,  more  swiftly, 
he  cast  his  eye  over  the  ground  around,  going  from 
point  to  point  hurriedly. 

At  last  he  gave  a  shout  of  amusement  and  relief. 

*'I  guess  the  joke's  on  us !"  he  cried  with  restored 
cheerfulness.  "There  ain't  been  no  Injuns  here  at 
all.  These  critters  just  up  an'  died,  and  the  party 
was  forced  to  leave  a  wagon  or  two  behind.  Not 
being  wishful  to  help  those  back  of  'em,  they  set 
'em  afire.  That  was  what  we  saw  last  night.  Their 
own  little  bonfire.  I  listened  for  shots  and,  when 
I  didn't  hear  'em,  I  concluded  either  that  the  whites 
were  all  dead  or  that  we  was  too  far  away  for  the 
sound  to  carry.  In  either  case  I  knew  we  wasn't 
near  enough  to  help." 

"We  would  a-looked  fine,  wouldn't  we,"  Tupper 
chuckled.  "S'posin'  It  had  been  a  little  nearer  and 
we'd  rode  over  to  act  the  rescuin'  heroes." 

The  men  were  all  vastly  relieved  to  find  their  ap- 
prehensions groundless;  but  soon  the  sight  of  valu- 
ables abandoned  and  destroyed  became  such  a  com- 
monplace of  the  trail  that  It  excited  little  Interest  or 


146  DIantha's  Quest 

comment.  It  was  a  curious  fact  that  those  who  had 
no  further  use  for  the  things  themselves  should  be- 
grudge them  to  others.  People  seemed  to  go  to  con- 
siderable trouble  to  render  what  they  left  behind 
useless,  but  it  would  take  many  months  of  weary 
labor  in  the  gold  fields  to  replace  the  value  of  what 
was  thrown  away  in  crossing  the  continent. 

That  night  they  came  to  a  "real  cold  spring,"  and 
it  was  decided  to  lay  off  again  for  a  couple  of  days 
to  rest  the  animals.  The  only  objection  to  the  camp 
was  its  lack  of  fuel,  but  even  Uncle  Toby  had  grown 
so  accustomed  to  using  buffalo  chips  by  this  time  that 
he  almost  forgot  to  grumble  about  it. 

A  day  or  two  of  rest  was  a  welcome  change  for 
both  Sam  and  Di.  But  just  what  to  do  with  a  holi- 
day was  a  question,  for  they  were  not  encouraged 
to  wander  too  far  from  the  camp. 

"Let's  go  over  on  the  butte,''  Di  suggested.  "It's 
not  so  far  that  mother  will  scold,  but  it's  far  enough 
to  get  us  away  from  the  smell  of  smoke  and  cooking. 
And  Sam,  bring  your  book.  There's  a  funny  picture 
in  it  that  I've  never  forgotten.  I  meant  to  have 
seen  it  long  ago." 

"I'll  swap  you  even,"  returned  Sam  firmly.  "You 
promised  you'd  show  me  your  map  some  day  and 
you  never  have.  I'll  bring  the  book  if  you  bring 
the  map." 

"Of  course  I  will,"  Di  agreed.  "I  always  in- 
tended to  show  it  to  you;  but  it's  a  thing  that  takes 


Buffalo  147 

a  lot  of  explaining  and  we  never  seemed  to  have 
enough  time  to  make  it  worth  while  to  begin." 

The  two  went  to  their  respective  wagons  and  then 
slowly  walked  together  to  the  butte  that  rose  out  of 
the  sea  of  prairie.  The  day  was  practically  cloud- 
less, and  as  usual  their  objective  proved  to  be  farther 
off  than  it  appeared  to  be. 

"This  ridin'  all  the  time  makes  a  feller  soft," 
said  Sam.  ^Tm  sort  of  puffy  walkin'  just  this  little 
way." 

"It's  quite  a  distance,"  Di  returned,  "but  you 
can  ride  back  if  you  want  to,  for  here  comes  Dots. 
She  certainly  follows  you  as  if  she  was  a  puppy." 

"She's  a  great  little  pony,"  Sam  said,  looking 
at  his  treasure  affectionately.  Then  they  both  for- 
got her  as  they  ascended  the  hill  and  seated  them- 
selves on  its  summit. 

Di  reached  out  a  hand  for  Sam's  book  and  spread 
out  its  map  on  the  grass  between  them. 

"Here's  about  where  we  are."  She  pointed  with  a 
spear  of  grass.  "We've  come  all  the  way  from 
there.  You  can  see  this  time  that  we've  made  real 
progress." 

"We're  getting  on,"  said  Sam,  lazily,  lingering 
over  the  map.  "But  which  was  the  funny  picture 
you  wanted  to  see?  The  gold  washer?  It's  got 
a  whole  page  near  the  back."  He  began  hunting 
for  it. 

"No,"  Di  answered  taking  the  book  from  him  and 
turning  the  pages.  "This,"  she  said  at  last,  holding 


148  Dlantha's  Quest 

it  open  at  a  smaller  cut  and  reading  hastily  to  her- 
self. She  looked  at  it  with  knit  brows  for  some 
time  and  when  she  spoke  again  it  was  half-angrily. 

"Why  do  people  who  can't  understand  a  thing 
act  as  if  their  stupidity  was  something  to  be  proud 
of?" 

**What's  it  all  about?"  Sam  asked,  "and  why  do 
you  care?" 

"Oh,  this  man  Rufus  Porter,  editor  of  the  Scienti- 
fic Mechanic,  says  he's  going  to  take  people  to 
California  by  air  and  Mr.  Sherwood  just  makes  fun 
of  him." 

"I  read  it,"  Sam  chuckled.  "I  remember  now. 
'Tis  a  fool  idea,  isn't  it?" 

"You  don't  believe  he  can  do  it?"  Di  spoke  heat- 
edly. "Well  listen.  He  says,  *A  bouyant  float,  in 
the  nature  of  a  revoloidal  spindle,  should  lift  twenty- 
two  thousand  pounds.'  A  steam  engine  to  run  it 
would  weigh  two  thousand,  and  you  could  carry 
seventy-five  passengers  and  their  baggage.  I  don't 
see  why  that  isn't  a  perfectly  good  calculation." 

Sam  chuckled  again. 

*Oh,  you  can  laugh,  Sam  Brand!"  Di  exclaimed. 
"There  were  people  who  laughed  at  steam-engines 
once." 

"Oh,  well,"  Sam  said,  half  apologetically,  "of 
course  I  know  you're  a  lot  smarter  than  I  am,  but 
what's  it  going  to  run  on?  Tell  me  that!  You 
can't  lay  tracks  on  the  air." 

"You  don't  need  tracks  for  steam-boats,  do  you?" 


Buffalo  149 

Di  asked  crushingly.  "Why  can't  this  machine  run 
like  they  do?" 

Receiving  no  answer  Di  looked  up.  Sam  was  no 
longer  listening  to  her.  Instead  he  was  propped 
stiffly  erect,  his  eyes  widened  and  his  mouth  a  little 
open  in  an  extremity  of  surprise. 

And  well  might  he  be  amazed.  Here  at  last  was 
the  herd  of  buffalo  they  had  all  longed  to  see.  Thou- 
sands of  the  shaggy  beasts  in  a  dense  mass,  their 
heads  lowered  to  the  grass  upon  w'hich  they  grazed, 
had  moved  slowly  and  quietly  forward  until  the 
hill  upon  which  Di  and  Sam  were  sitting  was  en- 
tirely surrounded  except  on  one  side  where  a  lane 
lay  open  to  the  plain. 

The  boy  and  girl  gazed  down  the  side  of  the 
green  butte  upon  this  sea  of  rusty  brown  backs,  awe- 
struck with  wonder  at  the  sight.  It  was  almost  as 
if  a  carpet  had  been  spread  over  the  sward,  so  closely 
were  the  buffalos  packed  together. 

But  quickly  their  surprise  gave  place  to  anxiety. 
There  was  something  menacing  and  fearful  about 
this  multitude  of  unreasoning  beasts. 

"We  must  go  down  from  here  before  they  over- 
fun  us,  "Di  said,  turning  a  little  pale.  She  had 
heard  tales  of  unfortunate  people  who  had  been 
caught  in  such  a  herd  and  trampled  to  death.  That 
these  tales  were  true,  the  spectacle  before  her  amply 
proved.  Nothing  could  withstand  the  onward  rush 
di  tkis  seetbiftg  mass  df  bone  and  muscle. 


150  Dian'tha's  Quest 

Di  started  to  get  up,  but  Sam,  wisely,  placed  a 
restraining  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

**Don't  move,"  he  cautioned  in  a  whisper.  "Dad 
says  they're  mighty  curious.  If  they  saw  us  they 
might  come  up  here  to  have  a  look." 

"But  Sam — ,"  Di  began,  but  the  boy  interrupted 
quietly. 

"We  just  don't  dare  to  run  the  risk  of  frighten- 
ing them,"  he  said.  "We're  all  right,  so  long  as 
they  don't  git  scared.  They'll  go  around  this  hill.  So 
long's  we're  afoot,  our  best  chance  Is  to  stay  quiet." 

He  looked  about  him  and,  in  the  open  space  where 
the  head  of  the  herd  had  divided  to  avoid  climbing 
the  butte,  he  saw  Polka  Dots  grazing.  There  lay 
their  means  of  escape,  and  the  boy,  realizing  this  at 
once,  began  to  whistle,  at  first  softly,  then  louder 
and  louder. 

In  a  moment  the  little  mustang  lifted  her  head, 
pricking  forward  her  ears  in  their  direction.  Again 
Sam  whistled  and  as  the  sound  reached  the  pony 
they  saw  her  start  toward  them,  her  pace  increasing 
steadily. 

"We're  all  right  now,"  Sam  murmured,  but  his 
elation  was  short-lived.  Almost  as  he  spoke  a  rifle 
shot  rang  out  on  the  far  side  of  the  hill.  This  was 
quickly  followed  by  another  and  the  alarm  of  the 
buffalos  was  Instantaneous.  Their  great  heads  were 
lifted  nervously  and  then,  with  a  bellowing  that  was 
almost  deafening,  the  crazed  herd  plunged  forward 
in  one  wild  stampede.     • 


CHAPTER  XIII 

DOTS   TO   THE    RESCUE 

THE  Stampede  of  a  thousand  buffalos  meant 
death  to  anyone  who  was  in  their  path.  Ordi- 
narily the  hill  on  which  Sam  and  Diwere  sitting 
would  have  divided  the  herd  which  would  have  con- 
tinued to  graze  around  its  base  and  move  on  slowly 
into  the  open  country,  but  it  was  not  steep  enough  to 
turn  them  when  they  had  been  alarmed.  They  surged 
up  the  side  of  it,  their  clumsy  lumbering  gait,  swifter 
by  far  than  it  looked,  rapidly  closing  the  gap  be- 
tween them  and  the  children.  The  noise  of  their 
thudding  hoofs  filled  the  air  like  the  rolling  of  drums 
and  Diantha,  fascinated  by  the  fate  that  seemed  in- 
evitable, sat  transfixed,  unable  to  take  her  eyes  from 
their  tossing  heads. 

Suddenly  Sam's  voice  roused  her  from  the  daze 
in  which  she  was  plunged. 

*'Oh  good  little  Dots !''  he  shouted.  "Come  on, 
Di,  she'll  save  us  yet."  He  seized  the  girl's  hand  as 
he  spoke,  dragging  her  to  her  feet,  and  together 
they  ran  down  the  far  slope  up  which  the  pinto 
pony  was  coming  to  their  rescue  dodging  through 
the  scattered  buffalos,  who,  on  that  side  of  the  hill, 

151 


152  Diantha*s  Quest 

were  as  yet  only  vaguely  uneasy,  lifting  up  their 
heads  from  the  grass  and  listening  to  the  approach 
of  the  herd  which  soon  was  to  sweep  them  with  it 
in  blind  terror.  In  and  out  Polka  Dots  dodged,  and 
the  children  ran  to  meet  her. 

"If  she  only  had  a  bridle  on,"  Sam  said,  **but  she 
hasn't,  ril  grab  her  mane  and  mount.  Then  Til 
give  you  a  hand,  and  you  put  your  foot  on  mine  and 
swing  up  behind  me.  After  that  it  is  up  to  Dots. 
We'll  be  swept  along  with  the  herd  and  if  she  keeps 
her  feet,  we'll  be  able  to  pull  out  sooner  or  later." 

*'She's  sure-footed,"  Di  panted  bravely;  but  just 
at  that  moment  Polka  Dots  seemed  to  falter.  She 
had  seen  the  approaching  line  of  the  herd  and  hesi- 
tated. 

Sam  whistled  piercingly  and  once  more  the  little 
mustang  obeyed  the  call,  but  she  was  frightened 
now.  She  knew  the  danger  she  had  to  meet,  and 
she  reached  them  barely  in  time.  Sam  wheeled  her 
as  he  mounted,  then  swung  Di  up  behind  him.  This 
steadied  the  pinto.  She  no  longer  had  to  face  that 
oncoming  line  of  shaggy  heads,  and  her  beloved 
master  was  on  her  back,  whistling  as  usual.  Indeed 
she  never  faltered  thereafter,  even  when  the  herd  en- 
gulfed them. 

The  noise  was  stunning  and  there  was  no  resisting 
the  stampede ;  for  a  time  they  were  swept  along  with- 
out a  word  between  them.  But  of  a  sudden  Di 
shouted  in  Sam's  ear. 


Dots  to  the  Rescue  153 

"Whistle  louder,  Sam.  As  loud  as  you  can.  The 
buffalos  don't  like  itF* 

Obediently  Sam  emitted  the  most  piercing  notes 
in  his  repertory,  and  to  his  surprise  he  found  that 
Di  was  right.  Almost  imperceptibly  the  animals 
which  had  pressed  them  so  closely  that  his  legs  had 
touched  their  heaving  sides  drew  away.  They  still 
were  closed  in  by  buffaloes;  but  if  Dots  had  only 
worn  a  bridle  he  would  have  been  able  to  draw  back 
bit  by  bit. 

As  it  was  he  could  do  little  save  gentle  the  mare 
and  whistle;  but  of  her  own  accord  she  lessened  her 
pace  when  she  could,  and  it  soon  became  evident 
that  the  herd  was  out-distancing  them. 

"We're  being  left  behind,  Sam,"  Di  cried. 
"Look!  We're  not  in  a  tight  mass  of  buffalos  any 
longer." 

Indeed  the  scattered  end  of  the  herd  was  all  that 
now  surrounded  them.  The  noise  and  dust  and 
smell  had  passed  them,  but  it  was  not  till  the  last 
yearling  had  lumbered  by  that  Sam  dared  to  bring 
Dots  to  a  halt. 

Now  that  the  danger  was  over  the  boy  was  shak- 
ing a  little.  Dots  had  saved  them,  but  he  had  felt 
his  responsibility  for  Di's  life  and  he  would  have 
liked  to  slip  off  the  horse  and  throw  himself  flat 
on  the  ground,  torn  as  It  was  with  the  passage  of 
many  hoofs,  until  he  had  recovered  somewhat  from 
what  he  had  been  through. 

Di,  however,  was  scanning  the  trail  over  which 


154  Dlantha*s  Quest 

they  had  come,  her  hand  shading  her  eyes,  for  her 
sunbonnet  had  gone  long  before  in  their  first  mad 
rush. 

*'I  wonder  how  far  it  is  ?"  she  asked  gravely.  "We 
must  ride  back  as  fast  as  we  can.  Poor  mother  will 
not  know  what  has  happened — and  your  father, 
too." 

"Don't  believe  Dad  knew  where  I  was  going,'' 
Sam  said,  but  he  gave  up  the  idea  of  resting  before 
they  went  back,  and  managed  to  head  Dots  toward 
the  camp. 

It  was  easy  enough  to  follow  the  broad  trail  left 
by  the  herd,  but  they  had  not  gone  very  far  along 
before  they  saw  a  party  riding  toward  them. 

"Here  comes  mother!"  Di  cried.  "I  guess  she 
'most  did  have  one  of  Uncle  Toby's  conniptions  this 
time.  It  would  take  that  to  get  her  on  a  horse."  She 
leaned  sidewlse  and  waved  her  hand  to  the  approach- 
ing riders,  who  responded  with  shouts  and  redoubled 
speed. 

"Are  either  of  you  injured?"  cried  Mrs.  Carter, 
as  she  drew  rein  beside  them.  Her  face  was  pale, 
showing  the  strain  she  had  endured;  but  her  tone  was 
calm. 

"Not  a  scratch,  mama,"  Di  answered,  in  a  voice 
she  strove  to  keep  gay.  Truth  to  tell  the  sight  of 
her  mother  had  brought  her  unexpectedly  to  the 
verge  of  tears,  just  why  she  would  have  found  It 
hard  to  say. 

"Who  fired  that  shot?"  Sam  demanded.     "There 


Dots  to  the  Rescue  155 

wouldn't  have  been  any  trouble  except  for  that, 
most  likely.'* 

"How  come  you  didn't  see  the  buffalos,  Sammy?" 

Brand  asked.     "You  was  on  a  rise.    We  was  down 

in  the  creek-bottom,  so  naturally  they  bust  on  us 

sudden-like;  but  I  don't  know  why  you  didn't  see 

em. 

"We  were  reading  a  book,"  Di  explained,  "and 
they're  very  quiet  when  they  aren't  running."  She 
repressed  a  shudder.  "Anyhow,  we  saw  them  in 
time  to  ride  out  of  the  ring,  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
that  shot.    That  started  the  stampede." 

"It  wasn't  fired  by  none  of  us,"  Tupper  remarked. 
"Captain  Brand  and  your  ma  warned  us  all  where 
you  was,  so  we  was  just  ridin'  herd  on  them  buffalo 
to  steer  'em  away  from  the  camp,  although  it  did 
seem  hard  to  let  so  much  good  bull-beef  go  to  waste. 
Then  come  that  shot,  and  the  whole  bunch  lit  out 
lickety-split." 

"At  any  rate  no  harm's  done,"  said  Brand,  "so 
we  may  as  well  get  back  to  camp-— 'less  any  of  you 
would  like  to  have  a  crack  at  a  buffalo  for  revenge, 
like." 

"If  I  know  buffalos,  and  I  think  I  do,"  a  man 
named  Mott  remarked,  "that  herd  won't  stop  short 
of  sundown.  It  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  put 
out  after  them." 

Everyone  seemed  to  accept  this  view  of  the  case 
and  the  party  rode  back  to  their  base  together  to 


156  Diantha's  Quest 

find  that  a  large  pack-train  had  come  up  and  camped 
beside  their  wagons. 

A  visitor  from  this  train  was  talking  loudly  to 
Uncle  Toby  as  they  drew  rein  and  the  old  negro 
was  vigorously  refusing  something  that  was  being 
pressed  upon  him. 

"I  wouldn't  take  it  if  it  was  a  Virginia  ham  let 
alone  a  buff'lo  tongue !''  he  shouted.  "You  go  and 
scramble  all  them  buff'lo  down  on  top  o'  my  little 
Miss  Di  and  then  you-all  want  us  to  eat  your  ole 
buff'lo  tongue." 

"Don't  I  tell  you  we  didn't  know  anyone  was  on 
that  dumpling?"  the  visitor  said  in  an  aggrieved  tone 
trying  to  talk  him  down.  "Ain't  I  seekin'  to  make 
you  see  that  it  was  an  accident  and  you  shouldn't 
harbor  ill  feelings?  We're  powerful  sorry  or  we 
wouldn't  be  offerin'  you  the  best  part  of  the  first 
buffalo  we  ever  saw." 

"Take  it,  Uncle  Toby  and  say  *thank  you,'  " 
called  Di,  slipping  down  from  Dot's  back  and  run- 
ning over  to  the  old  man,  who  retreated  before  her 
advance,  warding  her  off  with  his  hands. 

"Go  'way,  chile,"  he  said  feebly.  "What  you 
comin'  after  me  for?  Ain't  I  been  cryin'  my  eyes  out, 
account  I  see  you  killed  this  very  day?" 

"Nonsense,  Uncle  Toby,"  said  Di,  "I'm  not  at 
all  killed,  but  I'm  very  hungry,  so  please  take  the 
tongue,  and  be  polite  about  it." 

"You — ^you  mean  me  to  understand  you  isn't 
dead?"    Unble  Toby  asked  cautiously.    Then  as  the 


Dots  to  the  Rescue  157 

facts  of  the  case  got  the  better  of  his  superstitious 
fear,  he  came  to  himself.  "Thank  you,  sir,  for  this 
here  buff'lo  tongue,*'  he  said,  **my  ladies  they'll  en- 
joy it  as  a  change  from  tu'keys  and  pa'tridges."  This 
flight  of  fancy,  which  he  considered  a  duty  owed  to 
the  pride  of  his  party,  having  duly  impressed  the 
visitor,  he  went  on  severely.  "But,  next  time,  you 
want  to  be  more  carefuller  how  you-all  let  off  fire- 
arms. Supposin'  the  pusson  up  on  the  hill  had  been 
just  an  ordinary  pusson  instead  of  a  Carter,  those 
buffalos  wouldn't  'a'  had  the  same  respect  for  her 
and  would  'a'  gone  right  over  the  top  of  her."  Then 
he  turned  his  attention  to  Di.  "You  certainly  is  the 
beatenes'  child  for  gettin'  lost,"  he  said.  *T  dunno 
know  what  Marse  Charles  is  gwine  to  say  about  it 
when  I  tell  him." 

"I  can  tell  you,"  declared  Di,  seeing  that  Mrs. 
Carter  and  Brand  were  engaging  the  visitor  in  con- 
versation and  were  explaining  how  she  and  Sam 
had  escaped  death.  "He'll  say  you'd  save  your- 
self a  lot  of  worry  if  you'd  only  put  your  faith  in 
my  fairy  god-mothers.    They'll  look  out  for  me." 

Uncle  Toby  moved  away  at  this  sally,  muttering 
to  himself,  and  Di  turned  her  attention  to  the  group 
around  her  mother  and  Captain  Brand,  a  group 
which  had  grown  until  it  included  all  of  the  adults 
in  the  two  trains, 

Still  inwardly  shaken  by  the  ordeal  of  the  after- 
noon she  had  no  desire  to  hear  her  experiences  told 
over  and  over  again,  so  she  slipped  around  one  end 


158  Diantha's  Quest 

of  their  wagon  to  get  out  of  sight  just  as  Sam, 
moved  by  a  similar  impulse,  slipped  around  the  other 
end.  The  two  met  and  exchanged  rather  sheepish 
grins. 

"Sam,"  said  Di  suddenly,  "Fm  sure  I  ought  to  tell 
you.  I  may  be  one  of  those  wonderful  Carters 
Uncle  Toby  is  never  tired  of  talking  about.  In  fact 
I  suppose  I  am,  but  Fm  no  heroine !  I  was  so  scared 
I  was  paralyzed.  I  didn't  even  think,  and,  if  you 
hadn't  pulled  me  along,  I  don't  believe  it  would  ever 
have  occurred  to  me  to  move." 

"You  didn't  see  Dots,"  returned  Sam.  "You  had 
your  eyes  on  the  herd;  but  you  weren't  any  scareder 
than  I  was.  It  was  as  much  as  I  could  do  to  pucker 
my  lips  to  whistle." 

"Dots  is  the  real  heroine  of  this  occasion,"  said 
Di  finally.  "She  saw  the  buffalos  and  was  afraid  of 
them;  but  she  came  ahead  and  did  her  duty  in  spite 
of  her  fear." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Sam,  "she's  a  wonder,  that  little 
horse.  If  ever  I  get  to  Californy  the  first  gold  I 
find  I'm  goin'  to  have  a  star  made  of  it  and  set  in 
her  bridle  to  remember  this  by." 

Di  nodded,  then  she  asked : 

"If  ever  you  get  to  California?  What  do  you 
mean  by  that,  Sam?" 

"Nothing  really,"  Sam  replied,  giving  a  nervous 
little  laugh,  "but  this — today — made  me  see  I  hadn't 
counted  all  the  chances.  I  never  made  allowance  for 
herds  of  wild  buffalos  and  such." 


Dots  to  the  Rescue  159 

"Oh,  well/*  said  Di  lightly,  "alFs  well  that  ends 
well.  I  don't  feel  much  like  talking  about  it  yet,  and 
hearing  people  *oh,'  and  'ah' ;  but  I  suppose,  really 
this  is  one  of  those  adventures  that  IVe  always  en- 
vied other  people,  and  some  day  we'll  both  think  it's 
lots  of  fun  to  tell  about  the  time  we  were  stampeded." 

"Guess  you're  right  1"  Sam  nodded  agreement. 
"But  the  darned  things  had  such  a  queer  smell,  Di. 
It  makes  me  sick  now  if  I  think  I  get  a  whiff  of  it. 
Anyhow  there's  only  one  thing  I'm  really  sorry  for. 
It  was  too  bad  you  should  have  lost  your  map." 

"You  needn't  be  sorry  for  that,"  Di  told  him. 
"Think  of  your  book.  Even  if  the  map  had  gone  I 
knew  it  by  heart ;  but  that  book — " 

"Why,  I  didn't  lose  It,"  Sam  interrupted  aston- 
ished. "To  be  sure  I  don't  recall  putting  it  away, 
but  it's  here  in  my  pocket,  safe  and  sound." 

"That's  funny!"  Di  exclaimed,  "because  the  last 
real  thought  I  remember  having  was  that  I  must 
take  care  of  my  map — so  I  swallowed  It." 

"You  swallowed  It!"  Sam  cut  In,  horrified.  "I 
don't  call  that  sensible.     Won't  It  kill  you?" 

"I  didn't  swallow  It  down  my  throat,"  Di  ex- 
plained laughing  with  her  old-time  naturalness.  "I 
stuck  it  down  the  neck  of  my  dress.  I  always  used 
to  carry  nuts  and  apples  that  way  when  I  was  little, 
and  it's  quite  safe.  My  belt  keeps  the  things  from 
popping  out." 

"Then  you'll  show  it  to  me  some  day  yet,"  Sam 
said. 


160  Diantha's  Quest 

And  DI  answered  heartily,  "Of  course  I  will  I" 

That  night,  before  she  slept,  she  had  a  talk  with 
her  mother  over  the  principal  event  of  the  day. 

"I  know  how  it  frightened  you,  mama,'*  Di  said, 
"and  Vm  truly  sorry;  but  honestly  I  don't  think  I 
was  reckless.  That  hill  looked  like  a  perfectly  safe 
place,  and  Fd  told  you  where  I  was  going.  I  seem 
to  be  one  of  those  persons  who  step  out  of  hot  water 
with  one  foot  to  step  into  it  with  the  other." 

"I  haven't  blamed  you,  Di,"  her  mother  said, 
smiling.    "It  was  no  more  your  fault  than  mine." 

"I  thought  you  were  going  to  say,  *It's  no  more 
your  fault  than  having  red  hair,'  "  Di  chuckled.  "You 
know  that  was  my  last  horrible  adventure.  A  lucky 
adventure  for  me,"  she  added  philosophically,  run- 
ning her  fingers  through  the  mop  of  short  red  curls 
that  already  were  long  enough  to  be  quite  becoming. 
"I  don't  believe  I'll  ever  be  able  to  make  up  my  mind 
to  let  it  grow  again,  it's  so  comfortable  as  it  is." 

"It  makes  you  look  like  a  naughty  boy,"  her 
mother  sighed,  and  Di  sat  up  and  pretended  indigna- 
tion. 

"Now  that's  unjust!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  could 
bear  it  if  you  said  it  made  me  look  like  a  good  boy, 
or  even  just  a  boy;  but  when  you  tack  on  the  naughty 
— well  you  make  me  want  to  do  something  to  earn 
the  title." 

"My  dear  Di,"  said  her  mother  mock-earnestly, 
"far  be  it  from  me  to  stimulate  such  ambitions.     I 


Dots  to  the  Rescue  161 

retract!  I  apologize!  It  makes  you  look  like  a 
cherub.    How  does  that  satisfy  you?'* 

"It's  better,"  Di  declared.  "A  lot  better,  and 
now  I'll  turn  over  and  go  to  sleep.  If  only  I  can 
get  the  noise  of  those  thudding  hoofs  out  of  my 
ears!" 

Her  mother  looked  at  her  anxiously.  She  knew 
Di  was  high-strung  and  imaginative,  too  imaginative, 
she  thought ;  so,  as  she  tucked  her  in  and  kissed  her, 
she  answered  lightly. 

"Oh,  pretend  they  are  white  sheep  jumping  a 
fence  and  that  you're  obliged  to  count  them,  and 
you'll  soon  forget  everything  else." 

So  Di  counted  the  sheep  till  the  sound  of  their 
feet  grew  soft  and  they  turned  into  great  white  but- 
terflies that  carried  her  on  their  downy  wings  into 
the  land  of  sleep, 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  STRANGE  INDIAN 

DURING  the  month  that  followed  the  adven- 
ture  with  the  buffalos  the  S.  Brand  caravan 
moved  steadily  across  the  plains.  Sam  and 
Di,  picking  out  their  position  on  the  precious  "Con- 
gresh'nar'  map,  could  look  back  and  remember 
many  difficulties  successfully  overcome  and  recall 
their  experiences  at  various  points  along  the  way. 

There  was  Ash  Hollow,  where  it  had  been  neces- 
sary to  chain  the  wheels  of  the  wagons  together 
to  keep  them  from  overturning  as  they  were  slowly 
eased  down  the  steep  bank.  At  the  Platte  they  had 
found  three  hundred  vehicles  ahead  of  them,  wait- 
ing to  be  ferried  across  the  river,  and  only  wagons 
being  permitted  on  the  boats,  the  animals  were 
obliged  to  swim.  Numerous  smaller  streams  had  had 
to  be  forded,  and  at  some  of  these  the  emigrants 
were  forced  to  block  up  the  bodies  of  their  wagons 
or,  when  the  water  was  too  deep,  to  lift  the  wagon- 
beds  off  the  wheels  and  use  them  as  boats  to  carry 
their  goods  to  the  opposite  shore.  In  the  alkali 
plains  they  suffered  severely  from  thirst,  but  they 
found  sage  brush  to  kindle  their  fires.     Here  the 

162 


A  Strange  Indian  163 

trail  was  fringed  with  the  bones  of  cattle  killed  by 
drinking  from  the  pools  of  poisonous  water,  and  It 
required  constant  vigilance  to  keep  their  own  animals 
from  destroying  themselves. 

Then  they  reached  the  Sweetwater,  a  stream  that 
twisted  and  wound  in  and  out  across  their  path. 
There  followed  rocky  roads  that  jolted  their  wagons 
dangerously,  and  sandy  roads  that,  although  the  pull- 
ing was  heavy,  eased  the  bruised  feet  of  their  ani- 
mals. Sometimes  the  dust  was  so  dense  that  the  lead 
teams  were  obscured  by  it,  and  again,  to  compensate 
the  weary  travelers,  clear  days  and  good  going  put 
new  life  into  the  little  company.  There  were  many 
small  accidents  to  man  and  beast,  and  here  Mrs.  Car- 
ter's aid  was  Invaluable.  Her  skill  in  healing  was 
proven  on  many  occasions  and  the  gratitude  of  the 
party  was  shown  by  the  way  they  followed  her  direc- 
tions without  protest.  She  waged  a  constant  war 
against  scurvy,  doling  out  her  vinegar  or  dried  apples 
in  as  small  doses  as  possible  and  guarding  her  meagre 
store  with  jealous  eyes. 

A  few  small  trading  posts  existed  along  their 
line  of  march,  but  at  these  they  found  prices  so  high 
that  it  was  thought  wiser  to  buy  only  those  things 
which  they  actually  needed.  At  Ft.  Laramie,  those 
who  had  crossed  the  river,  found  real  houses  and  a 
sutler's  store  where  the  cost  of  goods  was  fairly 
reasonable;  but  having  grown  wise,  few  added  to 
their  load.  They  had  learned  the  value  of  keeping 
their  wagons  as  light  as  possible.    Already  some  of 


164  Diantha's  Quest 

them  had  been  forced  to  abandon  cherished  posses- 
sions along  the  route,  and  they  had  no  wish  to  repeat 
the  experience. 

But  these  trading-posts  were  welcome  spots.  They 
formed  rough  club  rooms  for  the  travelers.  Here 
newspapers,  months  old,  might  be  found,  hung  over 
strips  of  buckskin,  to  be  read  but  handled  as  little 
as  possible.  Here  notices,  sent  back  by  those  who 
had  hurried  forward,  would  be  posted  to  warn  out- 
distanced friends  of  the  failure  of  springs  or  pastur- 
age; to  advise  of  a  good  blacksmith  or  dishonest 
trader;  and,  above  all,  to  spread  the  latest  news 
from  the  gold  fields. 

This  still  was  the  vital  interest  in  the  minds  of  all 
the  emigrants.  Gold,  gold,  gold  I  Not  so  much  did 
they  talk  or  dream  of  what  they  would  do  with  it 
after  they  had  found  it;  that  rarely  seemed  to  enter 
their  minds.  It  was  the  discovery  of  the  gold  that 
preoccupied  them.  The  weight  of  it.  The  color  of 
it.  The  fact  that  one  stroke  of  the  pick  might  dis- 
close untold  riches.  That  was  their  romance,  and 
was  all  they  cared  to  dwell  upon.  In  a  way  they 
were  all  misers,  gloating  over  golden  treasures  they 
might  never  see. 

So  at  last  the  S.  Brands  had  reached  the  foot  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  were  halted  to  rest  their 
animals  thoroughly  before  the  dreaded  march 
through  the  stony  defiles  was  begun.  The  Contin- 
ental Divide  was  the  next  great  barrier  to  their 
progress,  and  from  the  tales  that  had  come  back  to 


A  Strange  Indian  165 

them  they  knew  that  miles  of  difficult  and  danger- 
ous country  lay  between  them  and  Salt  Lake  City, 
where  they  meant  to  stop  for  the  replenishment  of 
their  stores  before  the  final  journey  across  the 
deserts. 

The  Cronin  baby  was  sick  again,  and  Mrs.  Carter 
welcomed  the  stop,  hoping  that  a  day  or  two  of  quiet 
might  bring  the  ailing  little  body  back  to  a  semblance 
of  health.  Di  had  assumed  the  burden  of  the  other 
children  and  was  amusing  them  by  telling  them  stor- 
ies, to  which  Sam  was  listening  with  even  more  at- 
tention than  the  younger  audience  to  whom  they  were 
addressed. 

Little  Peter  was  most  sceptical  of  the  wonderful 
land  of  which  Di  told  him  and  at  length  burst  out 
into  open  protest. 

"I  don't  believe  there  is  such  a  place,"  he  declared 
roundly.  "If  there  was,  wouldn't  me  father  be  goin' 
to  it,  instead  of  this  Calif orny?" 

"Perhaps  he  never  heard  of  it,"  Sam  remarked, 
making  a  long  arm  to  pull  Katie  back,  who,  being 
only  three,  was  trying  to  slip  away  in  search  of  her 
mother. 

"It  isn't  likely  he  wouldn't  know,"  Peter  protested, 
"him  that  has  a  map  to  Californy  where  the  gold 
lies  hid." 

"But  I  have  a  map  too,"  Di  told  the  youngster 
with  a  laugh.  "If  that  is  all  you  need  to  convince 
ybii  I'll  draw  it  here  for  you  on  the  ground.     We'll 


166  Diantha's  Quest 

make  It  very  pretty  if  you  and  Annie  will  bring  me 
little  flowers  to  plant  in  it.'* 

By  this  time  the  map  of  fairy  land  was  almost  as 
familiar  to  Sam  as  it  was  to  Di  He  had  been  over 
it  with  her  again  and  again  and  somehow,  to  both 
of  them,  it  had  grown  to  have  a  close  connection  with 
this  journey  they  were  taking. 

To  be  sure  it  was  not  the  Congressional  Map  to 
which  the  boy  still  pinned  his  faith,  but  it  was  capable 
of  endless  expansion.  The  people  who  inhabited  it 
were  very  much  like  those  met  with  every  day,  but 
they  were  not  tied  down  by  stupid  rules.  It  was 
perfectly  easy  for  a  fairy  to  travel  a  thousand  miles 
in  an  instant,  if  one  so  wished,  and  yet  the  way  could 
be  made  as  difficult  as  the  long  journey  across  the 
western  continent.  There  were  no  Indians  in  the 
country  of  Di's  imagining,  but  there  were  giants, 
who  were  no  less  fearsome  to  the  lonely  wanderer. 
Sam  found  it  great  fun  to  translate  their  own  adven- 
tures into  terms  of  fairy  land,  but  there  were  times 
when  it  almost  seemed  as  if  Di  believed  it  all,  and 
Sam  could  not  deny  that  many  things  happened  in  a 
most  unaccountable  way.  Could  it  be  that  fairy  god- 
mothers, who  possessed  very  human  attributes  after 
all,  were  responsible  for  these  strange  and  unex- 
pected occurrences?  Di  said  "Yes"  positively,  and 
it  is  to  be  noted  that  Sam  no  longer  argued  the 
matter. 

He  watched  her  intently  as  she  modeled  her  map 
for  the  Cronin  children. 


A  Strange  Indian  167 

"We'll  make  it  so  that  when  we're  done  it  will 
look  like  a  garden,"  Di  began.  "Right  here  is 
the  Enchanted  Forest.  We'll  stick  in  lots  of  green 
twigs  for  it.  The  Sleeping  Beauty  lives  in  the  mid- 
dle of  it  you  know,  and  this  twisty  ribbon  of  grass 
is  the  brook  where  Little  Sister  begged  Little 
Brother  not  to  drink — " 

"Alkali  water,  I  s'pose,"  remarked  Peter  with  a 
bored  air.  "My  mother  most  never  lets  me  get  a 
good  drink  any  more." 

"But  Little  Brother  did  drink  and  something  very 
unfortunate  happened  to  him,"  Di  continued.  "He 
was  turned  into  a  stag.  Remember  that  and  obey. 
Over  here  is  the  Ginger-bread  House  where  Hansel 
and  Gretel  lived  with  the  Witch." 

"That's  the  kind  of  a  house  I'd  like  to  live  in," 
Peter  said,  interested  in  spite  of  himself. 

"On  the  edge  of  the  forest  is  the  home  of  the 
Three  Bears  where  Goldylocks  visited  and  beyond 
that  is  the  rocky  mount  where  the  giant  Cormoran 
lived.  Behind  it  lies  the  land  of  all  the  giants  Jack 
the  Giant  Killer  slew,  including  the  one  who  sang 
Tee,  Fi,  Fo,  Fum !  I  smell  the  blood  of  an  English- 
man. Be  he  alive  or  be  he  dead,  I'll  grind  his  bones 
to  make  my  bread.'  " 

Annie  and  Katy  snuggled  up  to  Sam  at  this  alarm- 
ing verse  and  he  threw  an  arm  about  each,  delighted 
to  keep  them  out  of  mischief  so  easily. 

"And  by  the  way,  that  giant  must  have  been  a 
relation  of  the  one  that  Jack,  of  Jack  and  the  Bean- 


168  Diantha's  Quest 

stalk,  killed.     You   remember  he  lived  above  the 
clouds  and  sang  the  same  song?'' 

"How  could  anyone  live  above  the  clouds?" 
sniffed  Peter.     "They'd  fall  through." 

"They  could  so/'  said  Annie,  who  was  ordinarily 
much  impressed  by  her  big  brother's  wisdom;  but 
who  now  had  given  her  allegiance  to  Di.  "Like  on 
top  of  Mt.  Laramie.  I  saw  it  with  me  own  two  eyes. 
Clouds  half  way  down  it  there  was,  and  snow  a-top." 

"Here  is  a  village  where  lots  of  people  lived.  Red 
Riding-hood's  grandmother.  The  Three  Little  Pigs 
Who  went  to  Market.  The  Old  Woman  who  Lived 
in  a  Shoe.  Dick  Whittington  and  his  cat  before  they 
went  away  to  London-Town — " 

"You  didn't  tell  us  about  all  of  them,"  objected 
Annie. 

"Give  me  time,"  laughed  Di.  "Just  now  Fm 
making  a  map  of  Fairy  Tale  Land.  Over  here  is  the 
Hill  of  Goblin  Gold.  It  is  beyond  the  Sad  Plain  of 
the  Bad  Fairies  and  the  Witches'  Mountain." 

"But  what  like  of  gold  is  that?"  Peter  asked. 

"It's  gold  that's  easy  to  come  by,"  Di  explained, 
"but  sometimes,  if  you  didn't  earn  it  fairly,  you 
wake  in  the  morning  to  find  that  you  have  a  purse 
full  of  leaves  or  lumps  of  coal." 

"Did  ever  anybody  see  a  fairy?  That's  what  I 
want  to  know,"  Peter  demanded. 

"Surely,"  Di  answered.  "Lots  of  people.  And 
the  elves  are  the  liveliest  little  things.  If  you  watch 
the  next  time  it  rains  you'll  see  the  ruffles  of  their 


A  Strange  Indian  169 

skirts  as  they  splash  into  the  puddles  with  the  rain- 
drops. And  they  come  sliding  down  the  sunbeams 
and  bob  out  of  sight  under  your  very  nose.  They 
think  it's  a  fine  joke,  because  youVe  too  slow  to 
catch  them." 

*I'm  none  so  slow,"  said  Peter  bristling.  "I'll  lay 
hold  of  one  of  them  tricksy  things  some  day,  and 
then  you'll  see !" 

"If  you  do,  don't  let  it  go  till  you've  won  a  wish 
from  it,"  Di  cautioned  him.  "They  live  on  the 
Emerald  Mountain  that  lies  over  here.  The  Ko- 
bolds  have  a  cave  under  the  hills  next  to  it,  and  both 
of  those  hills  are  full  of  treasure." 

"Gold  dust?"  asked  Annie,  "like  the  men  from 
Calif orny  carry  in  little  bags?" 

"Better  than  that,"  Di  assured  her.  "Emeralds 
and  rubies  and  diamonds.  A  handful  of  them  is 
worth  all  the  gold  you  could  load  on  your  father's 
wagons.  Even  their  flowers  are  rubies  or  pearls  or 
amethysts.  The  leaves  are  emeralds  and  the  dew- 
drops  are  diamonds,  so  you  want  to  be  very  careful 
that  one  doesn't  drop  in  your  eye." 

"Was  you  ever  in  Fairy-land?"  Annie  asked  seri- 
ously. 

"Yes,"  Di  answered  slowly,  "but  only  once." 

Sam  sat  up  and  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

"It  was  the  night  of  the  stampede,"  she  went  on 
a  serious  note  coming  into  her  voice.  "At  first  I 
couldn't  sleep.  I  seemed  to  be  followed  by  rushing 
hoofs,  and  I  was  hot  and  restless.     So  I  tried  to 


170  Diantha's  Quest 

think  of  sheep,  quite  clean,  woolly  sheep,  downy  to 
the  touch  like  fleecy  blankets  and  smelling  of  laven- 
der. And  soon  I  felt  something  softer  than  the 
softest  down  and  I  found  that  I  was  resting  on  the 
wings  of  great  white  butterflies  with  sapphire  eyes. 
Moths  I  suppose  they  were  really,  because  it  was 
night,  and  they  flew  up  and  up  and  up.  I  was  so 
close  to  the  stars  that  I  saw  that  they  weren't  holes 
in  the  sky  as  I  had  always  thought,  but  golden  nails 
that  held  the  blue  dome  in  place ;  and  we  flew  on  and 
on,  and  then  a  soft  light  began  to  dawn  and  the 
moths  fluttered  lightly  down  until  I  was  in  Fairy- 
land at  last'' 

"Di,"  cried  Sam  sharply,  "wasn't  it  a  dream?" 

"How  should  I  know?"  the  girl  returned  almost 
passionately.  "It  seemed  as  real  as — as  you.  They 
helped  me  down  from  the  butterflies,  those  beautiful 
little  people.  They  were  very  kind  to  me.  They 
played  me  soft  music  and  offered  me  fine  things 
to  eat  and  drink,  but  I  remembered  that  if  you  want 
to  return  to  the  earth  you  must  take  no  morsel  of 
fairy  food,  so  I  thanked  them  for  their  beautiful 
fruit  but  did  not  taste  it.  I  raised  the  jeweled  goblet 
to  my  lips  but  did  not  sip  it,  and  before  cock  crow 
they  sent  me  home." 

"I'd  a-bringed  that  goblet  with  me,"  declared 
Peter.  "I'd  'a'  made  something  out  of  such  a  chancy 
trip." 

"I  did  make  something  out  of  it,"  said  Di,  still 
serious.     "They  told  me  how  to  know  the  wishing- 


ME  TELL" 


A  Strange  Indian  171 

well.  It  will  be  shaped  like  this."  She  drew  in  a 
curious  character  on  her  diagram  and  pointed  at  it 
with  poised  stick;  but  Sam  put  out  a  restraining  hand. 

"That  isn't  where  it  is,"  he  said,  pointing  too. 
"It's  over  here." 

Di  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"Why,  Sam,  I  know  the  map  by  heart,"  she  pro- 
tested gently. 

"Yes,  I  know;  but  really  you're  wrong,  Di,  this 
time,"  Sam  insisted.  "The  wishing-well  is  over  here 
on  the  edge  of  the  Enchanted  Forest.'* 

"Oh  Sam,  you're  all  twisted,"  Di  answered 
laughing.  "It's  in  the  Sad  Plain  of  the  Bad  Fairies 
just  at  the  foot  of  the  Gnomes'  Hill." 

Sam  shook  his  head  stubbornly. 

"All  right,"  Di  said,  jumping  to  her  feet.  "You 
look  after  the  Cronin  children  and  I'll  get  the  map, 
just  to  prove  your  mistake,"  and  she  hurried  away. 

When  she  returned  an  Indian  had  joined  the 
group.  He  was  a  friendly  savage  who  had  wan- 
dered into  the  camp,  and  Di's  fairy  tale  garden 
seemed  to  attract  his  attention.  But  when  the  girl, 
after  a  nod  to  him,  seated  herself  and  spread  out 
the  map,  he  at  once  showed  a  livelier  curiosity. 

"Me  tell!"  he  grunted,  holding  out  his  hand. 

"There  isn't  anything  you  can  tell  about  this," 
Di  replied,  smiling.  It  seemed  extremely  amusing 
that  an  Indian  should  think  he  could  give  her  any  in- 
formation about  her  fairy  map. 

"You  give!     Me  tell!"  he  insisted,  but  Di  shook 


172  Diantha's  Quest 

her  head.  She  was  familiar  with  the  tricks  of  these 
strange  people,  who  were  always  ready  to  make 
off  with  anything  that  took  their  fancy. 

"What  do  you  suppose  he  wants?'*  Sam  asked 
The  Indian's  interest  had  impressed  him  more  than 
it  had  the  girl  beside  him. 

"It's  the  colors  he's  attracted  by,"  Di  asserted, 
referring  to  the  parchment  map  which  was  laced  to 
a  carved  and  painted  stick  with  a  thong  of  skin. 
"He  thinks  it's  a  picture  of  something  back  east." 

"Me  tell!  Me  tell!"  the  Indian  repeated,  point- 
ing, and  so  serious  was  he  that  even  Di  began  to 
wonder  if,  after  all,  there  was  more  than  mere  curi- 
osity in  his  insistence. 

"Give  it  to  him,"  Sam  urged,  "and  let's  see  what 
he'll  do  with  it.  He  can't  get  away,  you  know.  A 
shout  would  bring  the  whole  camp." 

For  an  instant  Di  hesitated,  then  she  gave  the 
map  into  the  out-stretched,  brown  hand. 

The  Indian  squatted  down  and  spread  it  out  be- 
fore him.  Then  taking  up  a  stick  he  smoothed  a 
place  in  the  sand. 

"He's  spoiling  our  Fairy-land  1"  cried  little  Annie, 
aggrieved,  but  no  one  heeded  her. 

"Here  white  man's  wigwam,"  the  Indian  began. 
"Many  men  coming!"  He  opened  and  shut  his  hand 
rapidly  to  indicate  tens.  "White  man's  heart — it 
run  out.  Take — "  He  stopped  for  a  moment, 
seemingly  at  a  loss  to  explain  what  had  been  taken, 
then  his  hand  went  to  his  breast  where  hung  a  neck- 


A  Strange  Indian  173 

lace  of  bears*  claws,  and  he  shook  it,  murmuring, 
"Take!  Take!"  Then  he  drew  a  zig-zag  line 
toward  the  east  and  held  up  three  fingers.  *'Ride! 
Suns!  Fast!  Plenty  scared!"  He  jumped  to  his 
feet  and  touched  a  tree,  spreading  his  arms  to  indi- 
cate huge  size.  After  that  with  a  grunt,  he  held  up 
a  hand  and  two  fingers,  stooped  quickly  and  made 
a  diagram  on  the  earth  to  show  the  position  of  these 
trees,  and  began  digging  briskly.  "Hide !"  he  said, 
and  again  touched  the  necklace.  "White  man,  he 
ride  back  to  wigwam!*'  His  finger  retraced  the 
twisting  trail,  then  rising  quickly  to  his  feet  he  cried, 
"How !"  and  marched  off  leaving  the  map  where 
he  had  spread  it  out  on  the  ground. 

The  vivid  pantomime  was  over.  Sam  and  Di 
looked  at  each  other  in  astonishment,  the  disputed 
situation  of  the  wishing-well  quite  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  TRAIL  IS  BLOCKED 

WHAT  on  earth  does  the  man  mean?"  DI 
burst  out.  "There's  nothing  like  that  on 
the  map  at  all." 

"There  is  not,"  Sam  agreed.  "But  Di,  he  wasn't 
joshin'  us.    He  believed  what  he  said." 

"He  seemed  to,"  Di  acknowledged.  "I  tell  you 
what  I  think.  I  think  he's  crazy.  I  suppose  there 
are  crazy  Indians  just  as  there  are  crazy  white  peo- 
ple." 

The  little  Cronins,  not  interested  in  this  discus- 
sion, began  to  show  signs  of  restlessness  and  a  game 
of  puss-in-the-corner  was  organized  for  their  bene- 
fit which  effectually  put  a  stop  to  further  discussion. 
But  when  at  last  they  had  been  turned  over  to 
Seraphy  and  Clara  Bell  Tupper  who  were  to  take 
charge  of  them  for  the  afternoon,  Di  and  Sam  re- 
verted to  the  subject  of  the  map.     ' 

They  spread  it  out,  they  looked  at  it  back  and 
front,  with  no  result  other  than  to  confirm  Di's 
judgment  that  the  Indian  must  be  crazy. 

"There's  nothing  new  on  this  map  at  all!"  Di 
averred.     "Of  course,  I  was  too  little  when  I  was 

174 


The  Trail  is  Blocked  175 

there  to  remember  anything  I  saw  in  Virginia;  but 
the  real  map  that  this  is  a  copy  of  hangs  in  the 
nursery  at  Eastover,  and  all  the  Carter  children 
love  it  and  learn  to  know  it  by  heart.  That's  why 
my  father  made  this  one  for  me." 

"Why  didn't  he  just  give  you  the  old  one?"  Sam 
asked. 

"It  doesn't  belong  to  him,"  Di  explained,  sur- 
prised at  the  question.  "It's  part  of  the  old  place, 
and  when  Grandpapa  dies  it  will  go  to  my  uncle 
Pinckney  and  his  wife,  with  all  the  rest  of  that  prop- 
erty. Father  was  the  first  one  married,  but  really 
he's  only  the  third  son." 

"I  don't  see  how  that  makes  any  difference — " 
Sam  began,  but  Di  cut  him  short. 

"It  does,  in  Virginia!"  she  declared.  "Here 
comes  mama.  Now  we'll  hear  how  the  baby  is." 
She  furled  the  map  around  the  stick  as  she  spoke  and 
slipped  it  down  the  loose  neck  of  her  dress.  Then 
she  ran  to  meet  her  mother. 

The  baby  was  better.  Unmistakably  better.  So 
Mrs.  Carter  hoped  that  if  they  could  manage  to 
get  it  through  to  Salt  Lake  where  good  milk  might 
be  obtained  for  it  it  would  yet  survive.  On  its  ac- 
count it  had  been  decided  to  move  on  that  afternoon 
and  cross  the  Divide  by  moonlight,  in  view  of  which 
fact  she  was  going  to  lie  down  for  an  hour  or  so  and 
wished  Di  to  do  the  same. 

That  night,  shivering  in  the  dry  cold  air  Di, 
mounted  on  Argo,  sat,  as  it  seemed  to  her  on  the 


176  Diantha's  Quest 

edge  of  the  world.  Tumbled  mountains  were  on 
every  hand  with  black  gulfs  between,  but  on  one 
side  she  knew  that  all  the  streams  ran  down  to  join 
the  Atlantic  Ocean,  while  on  the  other  the  Pacific 
was  their  goal. 

Looking  toward  the  west  she  wondered  how  the 
first  white  man  had  felt  who  had  stood  on  that  spot. 
Had  he  been  possessed  of  the  spirit  of  a  Cortes  or  a 
Pizzaro?  Was  he  an  adventurer  for  the  love  of 
adventure,  of  country,  or  of  gold?  She  wondered 
deeply,  and  still  wondering  started  the  descent 
toward  the  western  ocean. 

Now  came  days  of  the  roughest  travel  they  had 
yet  had  and  the  weather  was  often  against  them. 
They  were  nearly  stopped  by  a  snowstorm  on  the 
heights,  to  plunge  from  it  into  valleys  of  humid 
heat;  but  at  length  they  reached  the  forks.  The 
right  road,  leading  to  Sublete's  Cut-off,  looked  as  if 
nine-tenths  of  the  wagons  went  that  way.  But  the 
left  road  was  the  road  to  Salt  Lake  City,  and  for 
the  sake  of  the  Cronin  baby,  who,  thanks  to  Mrs. 
Carter's  care  was  still  alive,  the  S.  Brands  turned 
down  it. 

From  there  on  the  caravan  had  a  constant  strug- 
gle. The  roads  and  passes  were  narrow  and  rocky, 
dangerous  for  wagons  and  hard  for  man  and  beast. 
The  Green  River,  called  Ham's  Fork,  was  swollen 
so  that  the  wagon-beds  had  to  be  raised  six  inches. 
The  Bear  River  was  so  high  that  the  ford  was  im- 
passable and  everything  had  to  be  ferried  across. 


The  Trail  is  Blocked  177 

Here  Sam  had  an  adventure.  He  was  washed 
from  Polka  Dots'  back  while  swimming  her  over 
the  stream.  Indeed  a  tragedy  was  only  averted  be- 
cause he  managed  to  seize  Dots'  tail,  and  she  landed 
with  him  some  rods  below  the  ford. 

"That's  another  gold  star  for  her  bridle,"  the  boy 
told  Di.    "Dad's  going  to  give  her  this  one." 

A  day  or  two  before  they  had  reached  Ham's 
Fork  they  had  had  their  first  experience  of  real 
thirst.  In  the  valley  they  were  traveling,  which  was 
arid  and  sandy,  they  had  constantly  been  tempted 
to  leave  the  trail  by  the  sight  of  pleasant  waters  and 
green  banks,  sometimes  near  and  sometimes  far 
away. 

"It's  like  magic!"  were  words  that  came  from 
more  than  one  dry  and  thirsty  throat;  but  Di  and 
Sam  went  farther  than  that. 

"It  is  magic !"  they  said  to  each  other.  "There  it 
is,  sometimes  for  hours  at  a  time,  just  as  real  as  any 
water.  And  then  in  a  flash  it  may  be  gone,  or  else 
it  slowly  fades  away  till  you  see  the  sand  beyond 
right  through  it.  It  is  the  work  of  wicked  fairies 
trying  to  tempt  us  from  the  only  road." 

But  the  mirage  left  them  before  they  got  to  the 
fertile  Green  River  valley,  and  they  did  not  see  it 
again. 

Many  people  were  passing  them  now  on  pack 
mules  or  horses,  some  even  with  their  burdens  on 
their  own  backs,  for  it  was  necessary  to  go  very 
slowly  with  wagons  as  more  than  one  had  been  up- 


178       *    .  Dian'tha's  Quest 

set  and  Its  contents  spilt.  Captain  Brand  gave  it  as 
his  opinion  that  if  he  had  again  to  cross  the  contin- 
ent he  would  do  it  with  pack  animals  only,  or  else 
he  would  be  content  with  slow  progress  and  oxen. 

Odd  teams  were  a  frequent  sight.  Many  emi- 
grants had  lost  animals  and  had  been  forced  to  ac- 
cept any  substitute  they  could  buy,  or  else  two  out- 
fits had  consolidated,  after  abandoning  such  wagons 
as  could  not  be  taken  further. 

**Here  go  the  *Ho  for  Californys' !"  someone 
would  cry,  and  all  would  turn  their  heads  to  see  a 
dun  cow,  a  black  ox  and  a  donkey  pulling  a  wooden 
wagon  which  had  been  lightened  considerably  by 
sawing  a  foot  of  It  away  and  abandoning  it. 

"WeVe  bound  to  get  to  the  land  of  promise  ahead 
of  you  yet,  even  if  we  get  there  on  two  wheels,'*  the 
driver  called  back  to  them  cheerfully.  "The  next 
cut  I  make  Is  goin'  to  be  plumb  in  the  middle." 

The  people  who  had  passed  and  repassed  on  the 
long  trail  had  grown  friendly  and  Indulged  In  many 
jokes  at  each  other's  expense  but  no  one  was  ever  In 
trouble  that  help  was  not  freely  offered.  Indeed 
Mrs.  Carter's  name  was  held  In  grateful  memory  In 
many  an  outfit  where  her  little  medicine  box  and 
commonsense  had  been  of  assistance. 

The  S.  Brands  had  had  rather  more  than  the  usual 
good  luck  In  that  they  had  so  far  lost  few  animals. 
Or  perhaps  It  was  their  captain's  good  judgment  that 
was  responsible,  for  he  had  steadfastly  adhered  to 
his  policy  that  slow  and  sure  was  the  best  motto  and 


The  Trail  Is  Blocked  179 

had  rested  his  teams  whenever  he  saw  they  needed 
it.  At  all  events  they  now  entered  upon  the  last 
ravine  leading  down  to  Salt  Lake  City  In  better  shape 
than  most  outfits  that  had  gone  before  them.  And 
It  was  as  well,  for  this  six  mile  caiion  became  cele- 
brated as  the  worst  road  ever  traveled  by  civilized 
man. 

"The  trail  ahead  of  us  is  blocked,  Dad!"  Young 
Sam  had  ridden  back  to  give  his  father  the  news. 
"SourbalPs  outfit  is  hung  up  and  stopping  the  way. 
His  old  Crowbalt  dropped  dead  and,  the  horse  he*s 
got  left  is  too  weak  to  move  the  wagon.  Better  stop 
where  we  are.    It's  steeper  beyond  here." 

The  wagon  train  was  halted  while  Captain  Brand 
and  several  of  the  other  men  went  forward  to  see 
what  help  must  be  offered,  the  road  at  that  point 
being  too  narrow  to  admit  of  passing. 

Old  Sourball  was  a  well-known  character.  He 
belonged  to  no  outfit,  but  went  alone  or  hung  on  the 
skirts  of  any  train  which  seemed  to  suit  his  con- 
venience. He  had  not  been  generous  with  his  neigh- 
bors when  help  had  been  asked  of  him,  so  perhaps 
there  was  no  one  on  the  whole  trail  to  whom  they 
were  less  eager  to  offer  aid.  Stories  of  his  lack  of 
kindliness  had  been  passed  from  one  to  another  and 
the  man  himself  had  discouraged  all  proflfers  of 
friendship,  so  long  as  he  could  be  Independent  of  It. 

Sam  and  DI,  riding  down  the  rough  road,  anxious 
to  see  all  that  was  to  be  seen,  came  suddenly  upon  a 
heated  discussion. 


180  Diantha's  Quest 

Sourbairs  best  horse  being  dead  and  the  other  one 
obviously  unable  to  draw  his  wagon  and  load, 
Captain  Brand  had  made  the  natural  suggestion  that 
he  do  as  others  had  done  before  him ;  pack  what  the 
horse  could  carry  on  its  back  and  abandon  his  wagon, 
which  they  could  then  push  over  the  side  of  the  ra- 
vine, where  they  had  already  deposited  the  dead 
horse,  and  thus  clear  the  road. 

The  man's  answer  to  this  was  an  outburst  of  furi- 
ous accusations.  They  thought  they'd  put  him  out 
of  the  way  and  get  what  he'd  carried  so  far,  did 
they?  Well,  they'd  find  out  their  mistake!  He'd 
give  them  twenty-five  dollars  for  the  best  horse  they 
had,  or  they  could  pull  him  out  of  the  caiion  gratis; 
for  his  wagon  and  its  contents  should  never  be 
wasted. 

Captain  Brand,  striving  to  bring  him  to  reason, 
pointed  out  that  no  one  among  them  could  spare  a 
horse  even  though  he  had  offered  a  fair  price  in- 
stead of  a  niggardly  one. 

The  man  sneered  at  this,  remarking  that  the  two 
horses  ridden  by  Sam  and  Di  didn't  seem  over- 
worked.   Either  of  them  would  serve  his  purpose. 

Brand,  beginning  to  lose  patience,  told  him  sharp- 
ly that  although  the  ponies  were  not  for  sale  they 
were  worth  more  money  than  he  offered.  More- 
over they  were  mustangs,  not  broken  to  harness, 
and  the  parties  behind  could  hardly  be  expected  to 
wait  the  month  or  more  that  would  be  required  to 


The  Trail  is  Blocked  181 

break  them.  In  fact,  unpleasant  as  it  was,  he  must 
listen  to  reason. 

But  nothing  would  move  SourbalL  There  he  was 
in  the  path  and  there  he  meant  to  stay  until  someone 
pulled  him  out.  The  S.  Brands,  now  joined  by  a 
party  from  an  outfit  back  of  them,  drew  off  to  con- 
sult. To  the  knowledge  of  those  present  such  a 
case  had  never  arisen  before,  their  means  of  trans- 
portation being  one  thing  that  each  party  was  justi- 
fied in  reserving  to  their  own  use,  except  for  the 
overcoming  of  some  sudden  obstacle  where  mutual 
aid  was  freely  given.  The  first  thought  therefore 
was  to  overwhelm  the  man  by  force  of  numbers, 
push  his  wagon  over  the  edge  and  tell  him  to  come 
on  with  their  outfits  or  stay  as  best  suited  him.  But 
no  one  was  ready  to  take  the  responsibility  of  such 
action.  What  was  the  law  in  such  a  case?  Had 
they  the  right  to  force  a  man  to  destroy  valuable 
goods  or  to  allow  them  to  do  so?  No  one  could 
answer,  yet  it  was  obvious  that  one  person  could 
not  be  permitted  to  block  the  way  of  the  oncoming 
caravans. 

"We'll  go  and  tell  him  we'll  buy  his  prairie 
schooner,"  one  of  the  newcomers  suggested.  "If 
each  wagon  held  up  here  by  this  time  chips  in  a 
dollar  it  ought  to  be  enough." 

"See  what  you  can  do  with  the  stubborn  Dutch- 
man," said  Brand,  wiping  his  brow.  "He's  too 
tough  for  me.    I  can't  move  him.    But  we've  a  sick 


182  Diantha's  Quest 

baby  with  us  that  we're  wishful  to  get  into  Salt 
Lake  City  alive." 

The  other  man  and  a  friend  started  off  to  try 
their  luck,  but  came  back  with  bulging  eyes. 

"Do  you  know  what's  the  matter?"  the  first  man 
said.  "He's  plumb  crazy!  He  says  he's  an  inven- 
tor. He*s  got  the  contraption  in  that  wagon  and  he 
thinks  we're  trying  to  steal  it  from  him.    All  of  us." 

"An  invention!"  exclaimed  Brand.  "What  does 
he  suppose  we  want  with  his  inventions?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  second  man. 
"There  may  be  something  in  it.  It's  a  machine  for 
washing  gold  without  labor.  A  kind  of  a  wind-mill, 
or  a  water-wheel  perhaps.  I've  had  ideas  myself  of 
something  of  the  sort.  Anyhow,  we  don't  get  it  away 
from  him  without  bloodshed.  He  was  looking  to 
his  pistols  when  we  left  him." 

Now  such  was  the  force  of  the  gold  dream  that 
all  of  the  men  present  suddenly  took  a  more  lenient 
view  of  Sourball's  behavior.  The  S.  Brands  had  no 
animals  that  they  could  spare,  but  the  two  strangers 
who  had  last  interviewed  Sourball  went  back  up  the 
trail  to  return  presently  with  a  horse  which  they 
said  they  would  lend  him  to  take  him  into  Salt  Lake 
City,  and  so  the  road  was  once  more  open  to  travel 
and  just  at  sunset  the  S.  Brand  outfit  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  canon  and  caught  their  first  view  of  the 
Mormon  town. 

To  them  it  was  almost  too  beautiful  to  be  real, 
with  its  red  rOQf§  shining  in  the  mellow  light,  its 


The  Trail  is  Blocked  183 

green  trees,  its  white  walls,  and,  in  the  distance,  the 
blue  of  the  great  lake  and  the  purples  of  the  far 
hills. 

''If  Californy  is  better  than  this,"  said  Sam  to 
Di,  "I  won't  need  any  Fairy-land." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

AT  SALT  LAKE  CITY 

BUT  Salt  Lake  City  when  it  was  reached  proved 
not  quite  the  dream  city  it  had  seemed  from 
a  distance.  True,  the  streets  were  wide,  with 
clear  streams  running  down  the  middle  or  through 
the  gutters.  The  houses  were  comfortable  in  com- 
parison to  a  tent  or  wagon,  although  many  of  them 
were  only  of  white-washed  logs  and  the  best  were 
made  of  sun-dried  bricks  plastered  with  mud.  But 
the  Mormons  were  gruff  and  suspicious,  and  far  too 
keen  in  their  bargaining. 

Brigham  Young,  seeing  them  established  in  com- 
fort after  many  hardships,  had  refused  to  let  them 
listen  to  the  lure  of  gold  and  set  his  face,  among  his 
people  against  mining. 

He  judged,  and  rightly,  that  they  would  find  more 
profit  nearer  home  in  trading  with  the  hurrying 
throngs  who  would  pass  by  them  on  their  way  to  the 
gold  fields.  But  in  the  beginning  he  did  not  com- 
mand honesty;  rather  he  permitted  the  Mormons  to 
feel  that  they  did  no  wrong  in  cheating  a  Gentile,  as 
they  called  the  Christians,  and  it  was  not  till  the  end 
of  the  gold  rush,  when  their  sharp  practice  threat- 

184 


At  Salt  Lake  City  185 

ened  to  lead  to  serious  trouble,  that  he  interfered 
to  warn  them  against  their  favorite  forms  of 
thievery. 

Captain  Brand  had  a  quantity  of  cotton  goods 
that  he  had  hoped  to  trade  for  various  supplies 
of  which  they  stood  in  need.  So  Sam  and  he  had 
brought  these  into  Salt  Lake  City  confident  that 
they  should  be  worth  at  least  as  much,  if  not  indeed 
considerably  more  than  they  had  cost  them.  They 
were  met  with  pitying  smiles. 

"Too  bad  you  didn't  get  in  about  a  week  ago, 
mister,''  the  store-keeper  told  them.  "I'd  a-give' 
you  anything  you  asked  then.  But  today  it's  diff'- 
rent.  Prices  are  down.  I've  word  that  my  agent  at 
the  Bay  is  shippin'  me  in  a  full  line  of  calicos.  A 
vessel  has  just  come  round  the  Horn  with  a  cargo  of 
them." 

And  so  it  happened  to  all  the  other  travelers. 
Goods  that  they  wished  to  barter  had  shrunken  in 
value  till  they  were  worth  little  or  nothing.  Sheet- 
ing, spades  and  shovels,  which  they  had  in  abund- 
ance, the  Mormons  would  hardly  take  at  any  price, 
at  the  same  time  warning  the  emigrants,  with  pre- 
tended good-will,  that  they  must  not  burden  them- 
selves with  anything  of  weight,  as  they  would  be 
forced  to  abandon  all  excess  in  crossing  the  desert. 

"Gosh  ding  it!"  Honest  Tupper  said,  meeting 
the  Brands  after  they  had  made  their  disappointing 
bargains  at  the  best  figures  they  could.  "They're 
askin'  Cronin  a  dollar  a  gallon  for  milk  for  his  baby, 


186  Diantha's  Quest 

and  they  tell  him  it  ain't  no  good  to  carry  that  little 
load  of  friction  matches  he's  got  to  the  coast,  ac- 
count of  a  ship  that's  in  with  all  the  matches  in  the 
world  aboard  it.  But  will  they  give  him  anything 
for  his  matches?  No  sir-ree,  they  won't.  Nor  me 
for  my  heavy  wagon.  They'll  trade  me  a  light  one, 
worth  no  more  than  half  as  much  for  it,  if  I'll  throw 
in  a  team  and  all  my  coffee.  And  they  say  I'd  better 
get  rid  of  my  flour  because  it  will  be  so  full  of  bugs 
before  we're  out  of  the  Humboldt  Sink  that  no  one 
will  buy  it  off  me." 

"I've  got  more  than  a-plenty  of  nails  and  tacks," 
another  man  contributed,  "but  they  don't  want  them. 
It  seems  a  ship-load  arrived  three  weeks  ago — " 

"It  appears  to  me  a  whole  fleet  must  'a'  come 
along  loaded  with  all  we  happen  to  be  carryin'," 
Captain  Brand  remarked  sceptically,  "but  we're  in 
their  power.  We  got  to  take  what  they  hand  out  to 
us  I  guess." 

"Let's  pass  the  word  around  to  hold  off  from 
tradin'  as  much  as  possible,"  Tupper  said.  "If  we 
ain't  too  eager — if  they  think  we're  goin'  by  with- 
out contributin'  to  the  Mormons — they'll  maybe 
ease  up  a  trifle." 

"They  can't  hold  us  up  any  worse  than  they  are 
doing,"  a  third  man  put  in.  "Asked  me  seventy- 
five  cents  for  a  pound  of  meat.  Off  the  neck  of  an 
old  steer,  I  reckon  it  must  have  been,  'cause  it  was 
only  fit  to  make  heels  for  my  boots." 

This  brought  a  wry  smile  from  the  other  victims 


At  Salt  Lake  City  187 

of  the  Mormon  traders  and  they  separated  to  spread 
their  stories  and  the  proposed  plan.  Sam  went  at 
once  to  find  the  Carters  who  were  camped  close  to 
the  Cronins  in  order  that  Mrs.  Carter  could  over- 
see the  sick  baby. 

"Little  Tim's  a  great  deal  better!"  Di  cried  out 
happily.  "He's  very  cunning  when  he's  well,  and 
mama  says  all  that  he  needs  is  proper  food." 

"Where  is  your  mother?"  Sam  asked.  "Has  she 
tried  to  do  any  trading  here  yet?" 

"Has  she?"  Di  exclaimed.  "I  should  rather  think 
she  has !  Uncle  Toby  and  she  are  fairly  sick  about 
it.  Do  you  know,  Sam,  even  with  the  sixty  dollars 
for  my  hair  we  won't  have  enough  to  get  our  sup- 
plies here.  Uncle  Toby's  out  now  trying  to  find  out 
what  he  could  trade  Snowflake  and  Argo  for." 

"Sell  Snowflake  and  Argo !"  For  a  moment  Sam 
stood  aghast.  "Why  Di,  you'll  never  get  through 
the  Sink  without  them !  They  say  that  the  sand  is 
up  to  the  horses'  barrels." 

"We'll  get  through  if  we  have  to  pack  Sugar  and 
Salt  and  walk!"  Di  declared  setting  her  lips  firmly. 
"You  can  always  do  a  thing  if  you  have  to." 

"Is  there  a  woman  here  that  does  doctorin'?" 

The  children  turned  at  the  words  to  see  a  man 
and  woman,  both  dressed  in  dust-cojored  brown 
jeans  which  seemed  to  match  their  lustreless  hair 
and  sun-dried  skins,  who  had  come  up  to  them  noise- 
lessly. 

"There's  a  lady  here,"  Sam  bristled,  his  antagon- 


188  Dian-tha's  Quest 

ism  to  these  Mormons  needing  little  to  make  it 
active. 

"Do  you  wish  to  see  my  mother?"     Di  asked. 

"Yes,"  said  the  man,  "I  suppose  we  do.  We  got 
a  sick  child." 

The  woman  said  nothing  but  she  turned  her  eyes 
to  Di  with  an  appeal  in  them  and  threw  back  the 
folds  of  a  shawl  she  carried  to  reveal  a  poor,  wiz- 
ened little  baby. 

"Mercy!"  cried  Di,  "it  is  sick,  isn't  it?  Til  call 
mother.  She's  with  the  Cronin  baby  now,  but  it's  a 
great  deal  better  and  she  won't  mind  leaving  it." 

Di  having  been  shocked  by  the  baby's  appearance, 
Mrs.  Carter  came  hurrying  across  without  delay 
and  held  out  her  arms  for  the  poor  little  atom. 

The  mother  made  a  move  to  surrender  it  to  her, 
but  her  husband  stopped  her. 

"I  always  make  my  bargains  the  first  off,"  he  said. 
"So,  before  you  touch  the  girl,  what's  your  charge 
for  doctoring?  And  what  do  you  ask  for  your 
drugs?  Not  that  there's  any  use  of  carryin'  them  to 
the  gold  fields,  for  a  ship  has  just  arrived  in  from 
'round  the  Horn  with  a  cargo  of  drugs,  so  you  sec 
you  can't  expect  fancy  prices  there,  can  you?" 

"I'm  not  in  the  habit  of  selling  my  help !"  Mrs. 
Carter  said  icily,  drawing  back  at  once.  "I  give  it 
freely  to  those  who  need  it." 

The  man  leered  at  her,  unable  to  credit  her  simple 
words. 

"I've  heard  that  sort  of  talk  before,"  he  sneered. 


At  Salt  Lake  City  189 

"You  Gentiles  are  so  generous,  ain't  you?  If  you 
don't  ask  pay  for  your  help,  what  do  you  ask  for 
your  drugs  then  ?  I'm  not  fool  enough  to  think  you 
work  without  a  wage." 

"Mis'  Carter,"  Sam  interrupted,  as  she  was  about 
to  speak,  "accordin'  to  these  people  there's  ship- 
loads of  drugs  and  ship-loads  of  calicos  and  ship- 
loads of  matches  and  everything  else  we  have  to 
sell;  but  everything  they  have  to  sell  is  mighty 
scarce  and  dear.  Now  you  don't  sell  your  help  nor 
your  drugs,  neither,  to  your  friends;  but  then  your 
friends  don't  come  here  insultin'  you.  I  don't  see 
that  you're  beholden  to  these — ." 

"Their  baby's  sick,  Sam,"  Mrs.  Carter  spoke 
gently. 

"Yes'm,"  said  Sam,  "I  know  it  is;  and  I  ain't  sug- 
gestin'  that  you  leave  it  to  die  nor  nothin'  like  that. 
Only  I  do  think  if  you  help  them,  these  Mormons 
had  ought  to  help  you.  You'll  never  get  to  Cali- 
forny  without  Snowflake.  The  other  mules  wont 
be  able  to  pull  the  wagon  through  the  desert  and 
keep  up  with  the  train.  Honest  to  goodness.  Mis' 
Carter,  you'd  ought  to  make  a  bargain  that  if  you 
tell  them  what  to  do  for  the  child  they'll  buy  your 
supplies  for  you.  They  can  get  all  you  need  for 
t'he  money  you  have  to  spend,  if  they  want  to." 

This  was  a  very  long  speech  for  Sam  to  make, 
but  both  Mrs.  Carter  and  Di  recognized  the  force 
of  his  idea.  Undoubtedly  there  were  two  prices 
current,,  one  for  Mormons  and  one  for  the  emi- 


190  Diantha's  Quest 

grants.  If  the  Carter  supplies  could  be  bought  at 
the  Mormon  rate  it  was  more  than  possible  that 
their  money  would  secure  all  they  needed  and  they 
could  save  their  animals. 

*'ril  not  do  any  buying  for  Gentiles!"  the  man 
snarled,  but  Mrs.  Carter  had  been  convinced  by 
Sam's  reasoning  and  at  once  turned  away,  shrugging 
her  shoulders. 

"That  is  for  you  to  decide,"  she  said  calmly.  "It 
is  the  only  price  you  can  pay  me  for  doctoring  your 
baby." 

The  woman  meanwhile  was  tugging  at  the  man's 
sleeve. 

"You'll  not  let  the  child  die,"  she  whispered.  "It's 
your  first-born." 

He  looked  down  at  the  shrunken  face  on  her  arm 
almost  resentfully. 

"Most  like  she  was  only  born  to  die,"  he  said. 
"Why  couldn't  we  have  hearty  children  like  my 
brother's?     Come  away." 

"Oh,  mother  could  cure  it,"  Di  told  the  woman 
pityingly.  "The  Cronin  baby  was  almost  as  sick  as 
this,  and  you  wouldn't  know  him  today.  He's  quite 
pretty." 

The  woman  did  not  answer  her  but  turned  again 
to  the  man. 

"It'll  not  be  held  in  your  favor  if  you  let  her  die," 
she  reminded  him.  "Children  are  as  important  in 
the  sight  of  the  Church  as  all  your  crops  and  herds !" 

"I'll   not  traffic  with   Gentiles!"   the  man  said 


At  Salt  Lake  City  191 

surlily.  "IVe  no  belief  they  can  do  aught  for  the 
babe." 

"There's  no  need  for  you  to  move  in  the  matter," 
his  wife  said,  with  suppressed  eagerness.  "I  can 
take  their  money  and  do  their  trading  for  them." 

"And  think  you  there  will  be  no  questions  asked 
as  to  how  you  came  by  so  much  wealth?"  her  hus- 
band retorted,  not  yet  ready  to  give  his  consent. 

"Have  I  not  seven  sisters,"  his  wife  returned.  "If 
each  buys  a  part,  no  one  will  suspect  aught,  and," 
she  added  in  a  lower  tone,  "t'will  be  a  cheap  doctor's 
bill  for  us." 

Whether  this  last  was  the  argument  that  carried 
the  day  cannot  be  said.  The  man  gave  his  permis- 
sion grudgingly,  and  the  woman  took  Mrs.  Carter's 
lists  and  what  money  she  dared  spend.  Di  and  Sam 
left  them  deep  in  consultation  over  the  baby  while 
they  went  off  to  seek  Uncle  Toby  and  tell  him  it  was 
no  longer  necessary  to  sell  his  pet,  Snowflake. 

"You  know,  Sam,"  said  Di,  quite  gravely,  "I 
begin  to  think  my  fairy  god-mother  sent  you  to  us. 
We  certainly  would  never  have  gotten  to  California 
without  you." 

"Shucks!"  said  Sam,  much  embarrassed.  "I 
haven't  done  nothin' — anything  I  mean.  These 
Mormons  are  skinnin*  the  life  out  of  everyone  who 
rides  by  in  a  prairie  schooner.  It  just  did  me  good 
to  have  somethin'  to  sell  'em  that  they  had  to  have. 
If  I  hadn't  known  how  soft  your  ma  was  over  babies 
rd  a-tried  to  make  'em  pay  somethin'  to  boot." 


192  Diantha's  Quest 

"She'd  never  have  taken  it,"  Di  declared,  "and 
if  they  hadn't  given  in  she  would  have.  I  know 
mother.  She  could  never  in  the  world  have  kept  her 
hands  off  that  poor,  miserable,  little  creature." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

IN  THE  witches'  MOUNTAINS 

THROUGH  the  Mormon  woman  the  Carters 
managed  to  get  a  scanty  supply  of  needful  pro- 
visions but  even  with  her  help  their  money  did 
not  seem  to  go  very  far,  although  in  the  end  they 
found  themselves  possessed  of  enough  to  carry  them 
into  California  if  they  suffered  no  serious  delays. 

So  it  was  with  fairly  light  hearts  that  they  re- 
sumed their  journey.  The  severest  test  was  still  be- 
fore them,  but  they  faced  it  bravely. 

The  first  day  was  uneventful,  the  second  brought 
them  to  the  ferry  at  the  Weber  River.  A  big  out- 
fit known  as  the  "We're  Here's"  was  ahead  of  them, 
and  by  the  time  each  wagon  had  paid  its  four  dollar 
fee  and  been  ferried  across,  the  day  was  half  done. 

"These  ferrymen  along  the  route  must  be  gettin' 
rich,"  Sam  said  to  Di,  who  replied  ruefully: 

"Everyone  seems  bent  upon  making  money  out  of 
us  poor  emigrants." 

"Do  you  remember  what  day  it  will  be  day  after 
tomorrow?"  the  boy  asked  of  a  sudden,  and  then 
answered  his  own  question.  "The  Fourth  of  July, 
and  it  won't  be  much  like  it  is  at  home,  will  it?" 

193 


194  Diantha's  Quest 

**I  don't  know  anything  about  Fourth  of  July  cel- 
ebrations," Di  acknowledged.  "You  see,  ever  since 
I  was  very  little,  we've  been  off  somewhere  away 
from  settlements,  to  be  as  near  papa  as  we  could." 

"You're  mighty  fond  of  your  pa,  ain't  you?"  Sam 
said  unexpectedly. 

"Fond  of  him!"  For  once  Di  was  at  a  loss  to 
express  herself.  "Why,  Sam,  I  love  him  better  than 
anything  on  earth!" 

"Better  than  you  love  your  mother?"  the  boy 
asked. 

Di  thought  for  a  moment  and  when  she  spoke  it 
was  as  if  she  were  reasoning  out  loud. 

"If  I  am  it  is  very  unjust,"  she  said,  '^because 
mama  is  the  best  person  in  the  world.  She  takes 
care  of  all  of  us.  She  looks  after  our  health,  and 
our  clothes,  and  all  the  unpleasant  things.  And 
she's  taught  me  most  of  my  lessons,  because  I 
haven't  ever  lived  near  a  school ;  but  papa  has  taught 
me  things,  too.  He  taught  me  to  ride  and  to  swim 
a  little  and  he  wanted  to  teach  me  to  shoot,  only  I 
didn't  like  the  noise.  But  those  aren't  the  things  I 
mean.  It  was  papa  who  told  me  all  the  old  fairy 
tales  and  made  me  see  things  in  my  mind.  He — he 
made  the  whole  world  more  beautiful,  Sam.  You 
can't  help  loving  a  person  who  does  that  for  you, 
can  you?" 

And  Sam,  conscious  that  his  little  companion  had 
done  that  very  thing  for  him,  nodded  understand- 
ingly. 


In  the  Witches'  Mountains  195 

The  "WeVe  Heres"  and  the  "S.  Brands"  joined 
forces  to  celebrate  the  Fourth  of  July.  An  orator 
was  selected  and  a  horn  was  blown  to  assemble  his 
audience.  But  just  as  the  speaker  mounted  a  feed- 
box  to  address  the  assemblage  who  should  come 
along  the  trail  but  Sourball. 

**He's  found  another  horse  as  thin  as  old  Crow- 
bait/'  Captain  Brand  said,  astonished,  and  would 
have  let  the  man  go  by,  but  the  orator  of  the  day, 
knowing  nothing  of  the  recent  controversy,  thought 
otherwise. 

"  'Light,  friend,  and  join  our  celebration,"  he 
said.  "Independence  Day  comes  but  once  a  year, 
and  all  good  Americans  ought  to  hear  the  eagle  flap 
its  wings  and  scream!" 

Sourball  turned  a  suspicious  face  toward  the  man. 

"So!"  he  mumbled.  "And  while  Fm  listening  to 
you  someone  will  be  pokin*  into  my  wagon,  nicht 
wahr?*'  With  which  gracious  remark  he  pushed 
on  past  them  as  rapidly  as  he  could. 

The  little  Cronins  saw  something  very  funny  in 
this  and  set  up  a  shout  of  laughter;  but  Mrs.  Carter 
looked  grave. 

"That  man  is  one  of  the  tragedies  of  the  trail," 
she  remarked  to  Di.  "Think  of  the  loneliness  of  all 
the  miles  past  and  to  come." 

"I  don't  like  to  think  of  it,"  said  Di  with  a  shiver, 
"and  anyway  it's  his  own  fault.  Everyone  would  be 
friendly  if  he'd  only  let  them." 


196  Dian-tha's  Quest 

"Of  course,"  Mrs.  Carter  agreed,  *but  it  is  his 
mind  I  fear  for." 

Just  here  she  was  interrupted,  the  oration  being 
given  a  grand  send-off  by  the  WeVe  Heres  who  used, 
with  telling  effect,  a  small  cannon  they  had  brought 
for  defensive  purposes.  The  discourse,  on  the  ac- 
customed lines,  was  vastly  appreciated  but  it  is  pos- 
sible that  Sam  and  Peter  Cronin,  and  indeed  some 
of  the  young  men,  liked  the  excuse  for  a  little  noise 
more  than  anything  else.  Peter  had  a  horn  and  Sam 
and  the  men  pistols,  which  were  discharged  to  punc- 
tuate the  discourse. 

"Wasn't  it  fine  ?"  Sam  asked  Di  when  it  was  over, 
but  Di  disagreed. 

"Did  you  notice  the  Indians?"  she  inquired,  for 
as  usual  the  camp  had  attracted  Indian  visitors.  "I 
felt  the  way  they  did.  They  vanished  at  the  first 
shot  of  the  cannon.  I  stayed,  but  it  was  only  be- 
cause I  had  no  place  to  run  to." 

"Goodness  sakes!"  cried  young  Peter  Cronin. 
"You  don't  mind  a  nice  little  cannon  like  that?  I 
cannot  think  it  of  you."  Which  remark  brought 
roars  of  laughter  from  its  hearers. 

'There's  nothin'  the  matter  with  this  Fourth  of 
July  except  the  cold,"  Seraphy  Tupper  said.  "Not 
that  I  mind  it.  It  gives  me  the  chance  to  wear  my 
velvet  pelisse." 

"The  cold  rids  us  of  skeeters,"  her  sister  Ruth 
put  in.  "If  ever  I  cross  the  plains  again  I'll  have 
a  skeeter  net  if  I  have  nothin'  else." 


In  the  Witches'  Mountains  197 

"Will  you  wear  it  all  the  time?''  Di  asked.  "You'll 
look  like  a  bride  if  you  do." 

"It  wouldn't  be  such  a  bad  idea,  though,"  Melindy 
conceded.  "A  veil  in  front  of  my  beaver  bonnet 
would  ha'  kept  me  from  havin'  a  skin  as  speckled  as 
a  guinea-hen's  egg." 

"Are  we  goin'  to  lay  off  all  day,  Sam?"  Seraphy 
inquired.  "Seems  to  me  we'll  never  get  to  Californy 
at  this  rate.  I  was  talkin'  to  a  young  feller  who 
passed  us  on  horseback  yesterday.  The  J.  C.  Richy 
Company,  I  think  they  were  called.  They  aimed 
to  get  there  in  about  thirty  days  from  now." 

"That's  the  way  Dad  and  I  would  go  if  we  had 
to  do  it  again,"  Sam  said.  "No  wagons  to  hold  you 
back.  But  o'  course  there's  lots  of  arguments 
against  it.  For  one  thing  you've  got  no  roof  but  the 
sky,  no  matter  what  the  weather  is — " 

"Are  we  goin'  on  today,  Perfessor?"  Seraphy  cut 
in.  "Not  that  I'd  go  for  to  interrup'  your  lecture; 
but  ma  wants  to  know  on  account  of  the  cookin'.  We 
finished  off  our  last  batch  of  biscuits  by  clappin'  them 
in  the  wagon-box  only  half  done  but  terrible  hot, 
and  ma  don't  hold  with  that  way  o'  cookin'.  She 
'lows  it's  unhealthy." 

"We're  a-goin'  on,"  Sam  said.  "Dad  thought  it 
was  best,  though  he  didn't  insist,  scein'  that  this  is  a 
legal  holiday;  but  all  the  others  voted  to  push  ahead, 
so  it's  settled.  Your  pa  must  know  it." 
.  "Yes — ,  but  ma  ain't  no  clairy-voy-ant  like  they 
have  at  the  circus,"  Seraphy  laughed.     "Pa's  idea 


198  Diantha's  Quest 

of  the  time  to  tell  us  we're  movin'  is  when  he  cracks 
his  whip  at  the  mules.'' 

The  train  soon  got  under  way  again  but  progress 
was  slow.  They  struck  steep  roads  where  it  was 
necessary  to  rope  each  wagon  and  ease  it  down  to 
avoid  upsets.  In  other  places  the  dust  reached 
their  boot-tops  and  the  number  of  dead  animals  they 
passed  steadily  increased.  The  days  were  unbear- 
ably hot,  the  nights  very  cold,  blankets  and  wagon- 
tops  being  covered  with  frost,  and  the  snow-capped 
mountains  on  their  left  seemed  to  march  with  them, 
for  they  could  not  leave  them  behind. 

In  places  water  was  scarce.  Indeed  In  one  camp 
they  would  have  had  none  had  it  not  been  for 
Uncle  Toby,  who  skimmed  three  inches  of  frog  slime 
from  a  pool  and  found  tolerable  water  beneath. 
Now,  for  the  first  time,  the  S.  Brands  had  reason 
to  be  seriously  anxious  about  their  animals,  who  grew 
bony  and  weak  as  the  grass  thinned  and  dried  up. 

The  Indians  also  gave  greater  occasion  for  alarm. 
Their  thefts  were  bolder,  and  word  was  sent  back 
that  a  wagon  train  ahead  had  been  attacked,  horses 
stolen  and  men  wounded.  So  the  S.  Brands  oiled 
their  guns  and  placed  them  in  readiness;  but  no  at- 
tack came. 

"That's  the  last  of  our  sugar.  Miss  Di,"  Uncle 
Toby  announced  one  morning  as  Di  helped  herself 
to  sugar  for  her  pony. 

"Then  I'll  save  my  share  for  Argo,"  Di  returned 
promptly;  but  she  looked  grave  as  she  turned  away. 


In  the  Witches'  Mountains  199 

Were  all  their  calculations  as  much  out  as  this? 
Sam  who  rode  up  on  Dots  just  them,  met  her  with 
an  equally  grave  face. 

"The  Cronins  lost  four  horses  last  night,"  he 
said.  "They'll  have  to  leave  one  wagon  behind, 
that's  certain." 

"Did  the  Indians  get  them?"  Di  asked. 

"No,"  Sam  replied,  "they  just  petered  out.  Died 
in  their  sleep,  I  guess.  Anyhow  they're  stiff  now, 
and  the  Cronins  are  sortin'  out  what  they  can  do 
without." 

Inwardly  Di  wondered  if  they  were  leaving  sugar 
behind  them,  but  she  was  too  proud  to  beg  and  she 
knew  that  her  mother  had  no  money  to  waste  on 
that  luxury,  so  she  held  her  peace. 

"This  is  an  awful  place,"  Sam  said  disconsolately, 
digging  up  the  sand  with  his  toe.  "Nothin'  but 
sage  brush  and  prickly  pear,  and  prickly  pear  and 
sage  brush!  Dad  says  we're  to  travel  at  night  now 
to  save  the  beasts,  an'  there's  no  real  grass  this  side 
the  Sink." 

"Everything  is  brown  and  gloomy,"  Di  agreed. 
"I  think  this  must  be  the  Sad  Plain  of  the  Bad 
Fairies,  Sam,  in  which  case  the  mountains  they're 
always  fussing  about  must  be  the  Witches'  Moun- 
tains, and  on  the  other  side  of  them  we'll  find  Fairy- 
land." 

"You  talk  as  if  we  were  traveling  through  your 
map,"  Sam  grunted,  "whereas  it  is  mine  we're  fol- 
lowing.    The  real  Congresh'nal  map !" 


200  Diantha's  Quest 

"How  do  you  know?"  Di  demanded.  "  We  may 
be  lost!  People  on  quests  'most  always  are,  sooner 
or  later." 

"Well,  if  it  is  your  map  we  ought  soon  to  come 
to  the  Wishing-well,"  Sam  suggested. 

"And  if  we  do,"  Di  warned  him,  "you  must  men- 
tion it  to  no  one.  And  you  must  be  sure  to  have 
the  right  wish  ready,  because  it  is  the  first  wish  you 
get  and  no  other." 

"Huh,"  said  Sam,  "there  won't  be  any  chance  of 
mistake  about  my  wish.  I  know  what  I  want  right 
enough!     It's — ." 

"Don't  tell  me,"  Di  cut  in,  in  alarm.  "It  must  be 
a  secret  wish.  You'll  never  get  it  if  you  tell  what 
it  is." 

"Oh,  I  'low  I  can  keep  it  to  myself,"  Sam  laughed, 
"but  'spose  I  find  the  well  and  you  don't?  Mayn't 
I  tell  you  where  it  is?" 

Di  considered  this  point  seriously  for  a  moment. 

"No,"  she  said,  decidedly  at  last,  "I'm  afraid  you 
mustn't  You  see,  in  fairy  tales,  things  have  such  a 
way  of  vanishing  if  you  speak." 

"Like  the  mirage?"  Sam  suggested. 

"Exactly,"  Di  agreed,  "but  I'll  tell  you  what  we 
can  do.  We  can  point.  I  don't  see  how  that  could 
do  any  harm." 

The  road  now  lay  up  and  down  sandy  bluffs  where 
the  teams  sank  in  to  a  depth  of  almost  two  feet.  The 
S.  Brands  lost  no  more  horses,  but  they  constantly 
saw  dead  animals  by  the  road  side  and  the  neces- 


In  the  Witches'  Mountains  201 

sity  of  pressing  forward  made  it  impossible  to 
spare  their  own  as  they  would  have  wished.  Indeed 
the  way  seemed  a  succession  of  difficulties  well-nigh 
impossible  to  surmount. 

They  passed  the  Sixteen-mile  Desert  to  find  that 
there  was  no  grass  on  the  far  side,  and  here  befell  a 
most  serious  occurrence.  A  number  of  horses,  in- 
cluding Argo,  had  been  turned  out  to  graze  in  charge 
of  an  old  man  named  Silas  Warner,  who  allowed 
himself  to  drop  asleep.  The  hungry  animals  wan- 
dered back  over  the  trail  in  a  vain  search  for  their 
former  range,  and  were  never  recovered. 

Di  was  greatly  distressed  at  the  loss  of  Argo,  but 
took  some  comfort  out  of  the  fact  that  being  an 
Indian  pony  and  used  to  shifting  for  himself,  there 
was  a  chance  that  he  might  repass  the  desert  and 
escape  with  his  life. 

The  other  animals  were  looked  on  as  good  as 
dead,  and,  to  meet  this  difficulty,  heavy  articles  and 
warm  clothing  were  thrown  away,  wagons  cut  down 
or  abandoned,  and  once  more  the  S.  Brands  trailed 
on. 

All  cattle  now  had  to  be  constantly  watched  or  tied 
to  the  wagons  when  camp  was  made.  They  would  lie 
down  for  two  or  three  hours,  then  start  up  and  try  to 
go  back,  as  Argo  and  the  others  had  done,  to  a  land 
of  plenty. 

Moreover  Mrs.  Carter  found  her  hands  full. 
Scurvy  had  broken  out  here  and  there,  and  once 
more  little  Tim  Cronin  was  very  ill.     Most  of  her 


202  Diantha's  Quest 

time  was  spent  with  him,  and  Di  rode  in  the  wagon 
alone.  The  load  was  very  light  now  and  the  white 
mules  were  doing  splendidly;  but  she  missed  Argo 
and  her  rides  ahead  of  the  wagon-train  and  she 
hated  the  long  hot  days  in  camp. 

The  sixty-five  mile  desert  still  lay  before  them. 
Kegs  had  to  be  filled  with  water  for  its  passage  and 
it  was  decided  to  graze  the  cattle  once  more  and  to 
make  such  hay  as  they  could  at  the  first  likely  spot. 

Mrs.  Carter,  returning  to  her  own  wagon  at  day- 
break for  a  cup  of  coffee,  was  anxiously  questioned 
by  Di  about  the  baby  whose  frail  little  life  had  be- 
come dear  to  them  all;  but  her  mother  had  nothing 
very  encouraging  to  say. 

"Timmy  is  very  sick,  Di  dear,"  she  told  her. 
*'Very  sick  indeed.  He's  never  been  as  ill  as  this 
before.  I  can't  quite  give  up  hope,  but  I  don't 
know — I  don't  know." 

Mrs.  Carter  drank  her  coffee  and  returned  to  stay 
with  Mrs.  Cronin,  and  a  little  later  Di  sprang  out 
and  joined  the  Tupper  girls  who  were  plodding  be- 
side their  wagon. 

"Poor  little  Timmy  Cronin,"  said  Clara  Bell, 
"have  you  seen  him,  Di?  He's  all  eyes.  I  think 
even  your  ma  can't  save  him  this  time." 

Just  then  Annie  Cronin,  crying  bitterly,  came  run- 
ning toward  them  through  the  dust  and  slipped  her 
hand  in  Di's. 

"Timmy's  dyin,"  she  sobbed.     "They  said  I  was 


In  the  Witches'  Mountains  203 

to  go  to  you.  They  won*t  let  me  stay  with  him,  and 
he's  my  own  baby  brother,  that  he  is/' 

The  Tupper  girls  exchanged  pitying  glances. 

"He's  goin',"  they  whispered.  "Only  magic  can 
save  him  now.'* 

Di's  heart  seemed  to  stand  still  with  the  sadness  of 
it.  That  tiny  baby,  for  whose  life  they  had  all  helped 
to  fight,  would  be  left  behind,  one  more  little  lonely 
mound  in  the  vast  wilderness.  A  sob  rose  in  her 
throat,  but  she  did  not  wish  Annie  to  see  her  cry. 

"Take  care  of  Annie  for  a  little,"  she  muttered 
to  Seraphy,  and  dashed  ahead  of  the  slowly  moving 
wagons.  She  must  have  a  few  minutes  to  pull  her- 
self together.  Death  had  never  come  into  her  life 
before  and  she  saw  only  the  horror  of  it. 

As  she  distanced  the  dust  she  met  Sam  on  Polka 
Dots,  swinging  his  hat  violently  to  attract  her  at- 
tention. 

"Hop  up  behind  me!"  he  called  excitedly.  His 
manner  took  Di  out  of  herself.  There  was  some- 
thing that  had  stirred  Sam  to  the  depths,  that  was 
evident,  and  Di  obeyed  him  unhesitatingly. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked,  when  she  was  safely 
mounted,  and  they  were  moving  swiftly  toward  the 
summit  of  the  next  rise. 

"Don't  ask  no  questions,"  said  Sam  sternly. 
^Tou'll  see  for  yourself." 

And  when  the  summit  was  reached  he  reined  in 
Dots  in  silence  and  pointed. 

Below  them,  marked  in  black  and  green  on  the 


204  Diantha's  Quest 

grey  plain,  was  the  cabalistic  figure  Di  had  seen  in 
her  dream. 

A  small  and  perfectly  circular  pool  formed  the 
middle.  Burnt  wagons  assembled  at  its  sides  marked 
the  arms  of  a  cross  and  a  ring  of  bushes  made  the 
outer  circle.  The  figure  was  complete  and,  seen 
from  the  eminence  on  which  they  stood,  unmistak- 
able. 

"It's  the  Wishing-well !"  she  murmured. 

Sam  paused  for  only  a  moment,  then  he  spurred 
Dots  on  again  and  when  the  side  of  the  pool  was 
reached  Di  slipped  from  the  pony's  back  and 
leaned  over  the  water. 

"Nothing  will  save  Timmy  but  magic,"  seemed  to 
ring  in  her  ears  and  she  took  a  sip  of  the  water  and 
made  a  wish,  throwing  a  tiny  pebble  into  the  pool 
as  she  did  so.  Then  she  turned  a  face  of  woe  to 
Sam  and  said.  "I  wished  another  wish — and  now 
perhaps  I'll  never,  never  find  my  father  after  all." 

"Not  find  your  father!"  Sam  gasped,  forgetting 
everything  else  at  the  sight  of  such  grief  where  he 
had  expected  only  joy.    "What  do  you  mean,  Di?" 

"That  was  my  greatest  wish,"  Di  sobbed.  "I  want 
him  more  than  anything  in  the  world  and  I  some- 
how believed  that  if  I  could  find  a  wishing-well  I 
was  bound  to  find  him,  too.  But  when  you  brought 
me  to  the  well  there  was  something  else  I  was  forced 
to  wish.  And  now  I  feel  as  if  I'd  thrown  away  my 
chance  to   find  papa."      She  flung  hersielf  on  the 


In  the  Witches'  Mountains  205 

ground,  sobbing,  and  Sam  looked  at  her  helplessly, 
quite  unable  to  attempt  any  comfort. 

"Do  you  mean  you  don't  know  where  your  father 
IS?"  he  demanded  at  last,  trying  with  knit  brows  to 
master  the  situation. 

"No,"  sobbed  Di,  "we  don't  know  at  all.  He 
went  on  a  trapping  and  exploring  expedition.  We 
heard  from  him  once  after  they  had  happened  to 
cross  the  mountains  into  California.  He  sent  money 
and  a  long  letter  then;  but  that  was  almost  two 
years  ago.  About  a  year  later  came  the  map.  Noth- 
ing else.  So  mother  thought  there  was  something 
wrong  and  we  decided  to  try  to  hunt  for  him.  And 
now  I've  given  him  up !     I've  deserted  him." 

"Nonsense!"  said  Sam,  sturdily.  "You've  not 
given  him  up.  You'll  just  have  to  hunt  for  him 
harder  than  ever,  that's  all." 

But  Di  was  not  to  be  comforted.  She  did  not 
often  lose  her  self-control,  but  when  she  did  it  was 
hard  for  her  to  regain  it  and  Sam  watched  her  in 
sympathy  and  anxiety.  Suddenly  a  thought  came 
to  him.  His  face  lit  up  and  he  went  over  to  the 
pool  and,  raising  some  water  in  his  hand  as  he  had 
seen  Di  do,  he  too  registered  a  wish.  Then,  with 
a  look  of  satisfaction,  he  returned  to  Di. 

"Here  come  the  wagons,"  he  said.  "You  won't 
want  all  the  people  to  find  you  cryin'." 

"I  don't  care,"  Di  returned.  "They'll  only 
think  it's  because  of  Timmy." 


206  DIantha's  Quest 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Sam  with  a  start.  "Is 
he  worse?" 

"He  was,"  Di  answered.  "I  hope  he's  better 
now." 

And  Sam,  divining  what  the  need  was  that  had 
forced  Di  to  abandon  the  wish  of  her  heart,  rejoiced 
at  the  inspiration  that  had  come  to  him  to  set  the 
matter  right. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

NEWS  OF  MR.    CARTER 

WHATEVER  the  cause  may  have  been  there 
was  no  doubt  that  little  Timmy  Cronin  had 
taken  a  turn  for  the  better.  The  S.  Brand 
outfit  reached  the  pool  in  excellent  spirits.  The 
baby  had  a  hold  on  the  hearts  of  everyone  and  the 
rough  men,  whose  toil  might  have  made  them  indif- 
ferent to  the  fortunes  of  this  tiny  bit  of  humanity, 
were  as  anxious  for  his  welfare  as  the  women  in  the 
party.  So,  when  Mrs.  Carter  let  it  be  known  that 
her  patient  was  improving^,  the  fatigues  of  the  day 
were  forgotten  for  a  time  in  the  feeling  of  elation 
that  seized  them  all.  It  seemed  to  many  that  the 
success  of  their  caravan  would  be  worth  less  to 
them  if  they  could  not  keep  life  in  the  smallest  mem- 
ber of  the  band. 

Just  before  she  lay  down  in  her  wagon  to  take 
a  much  needed  rest  after  her  long  vigil,  Mrs.  Car- 
ter had  a  moment  with  Diantha. 

"He's  truly  better,  mama?"  Di  asked  anxiously. 

"Decidedly!'*  her  mother  answered.  "Babies,  of 
course,  recover  very  quickly  when  once  they  start  to 
improve,  but  somehow,  with  Timmy  it  seemed  al- 

207 


208  Diantha's  Quest 

most  a  miracle.  He  lay  in  my  arms,  scarcely  breath- 
ing, and  then,  as  I  watched  him  with  no  hope  left, 
he  opened  his  eyes  and  I  could  feel  the  vitality  re- 
turning to  his  frail  little  body.  He*s  still  sick,  but 
I  think  he  will  recover  now." 

Di's  nerves  were  all  on  edge  and  she  wanted  to 
be  alone.  Privacy  was  impossible  in  the  camp,  so 
she  walked  back  up  the  trail,  full  of  her  own  thoughts 
and  anxious  to  be  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  the 
busy  gathering. 

She  was  glad,  of  course,  that  Timmy  was  better. 
It  would  have  been  too  sad  if  her  sacrifice  had  been 
for  naught,  but  that  her  wish  had  come  true  so 
quickly  brought  a  sharp  pang  of  regret  that  she 
could  not  stifle.  It  seemed  to  prove  that,  had  she 
expressed  the  desire  nearest  her  own  heart,  the 
father  she  longed  to  see  might  have  been  with  her 
at  that  moment. 

"At  any  rate  I  should  at  least  have  had  news  of 
him  by  this  time,"  she  told  herself. 

Scarcely  thinking  what  she  was  doing,  Diantha 
had  left  the  trail  and  seated  herself  on  a  huge 
boulder  overlooking  the  road.  Here  the  jingle  of 
an  approaching  pack-train  interrupted  her  thoughts 
and  she  idly  watched  a  line  of  horses  following  each 
other  up  the  steep  grade.  Presently  she  was  sur- 
prised to  see  a  mounted  man  detach  himself  from 
his  fellows  and  ride  toward  her. 

"Anything  wrong?"  he  asked  as  he  reached  her 
side. 


News  of  Mr.  Carter  209 

There  was  more  than  a  hint  of  anxiety  in  the 
question,  which  was  wholly  natural.  The  Humboldt 
Desert,  through  which  they  traveled,  had  been  the 
scene  of  many  disasters,  and  would  see  more.  It 
was  quite  within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that  an 
entire  party  might  perish  before  aid  reached  them. 
Di  understood  this  perfectly  and  hastened  to  reas- 
sure her  questioner. 

"No,  there's  nothing  wrong,''  she  said,  rising. 
"The  rest  of  the  party  are  on  ahead." 

"Seeing  you  alone  this  way  I  was  wondering," 
the  man  explained,  and  then,  with  a  quizzical  glance 
at  the  girl,  "weren't  you  the  little  miss  who  gave 
our  outfit  her  coffee  a  while  back?" 

"Oh,  yes  1"  Di  exclaimed,  realizing  now  why  the 
face  before  her  had  seemed  so  familiar.  "You're — 
you're — ." 

"I'm  J.  B.  Smith,"  he  cut  in.  "I  told  you  most 
likely  we'd  catch  up  with  your  outfit  again." 

"I  remember,"  Di  replied,  brightening.  "You 
promised  mama  you'd  try  to  think  where  you'd  heard 
of  my  father." 

"It  came  back  to  me,  all  right,"  Mr.  Smith  went 
on.  "Just  as  I  said  it  would,  and  I  did  write  it 
down,  though  there's  no  chance  that  I'd  forget  it 
now.  Well  then,  there  was  a  Captain  Carter  who 
got  past  the  Apaches  and  crossed  into  California 
down  south  near  the  Santa  Catalina  mission.  Do 
you  suppose  that  could  have  been  your  father?" 

"I  certainly  think  it  was,"  Di  responded,  with 


210  Diantha's  Quest 

growing  excitement  at  this  news.  "We  had  a  letter 
from  him  posted  at  San  Diego  which  is  in  southern 
California." 

"Then  I  guess  there's  no  doubt  of  it,"  Mr.  Smith 
continued.  "If  you  had  just  mentioned  Captain  Car- 
ter I  would  have  recollected  at  once;  but  I  don't  see 
how  they  came  to  let  a  letter  get  through." 

"I  don't  understand,"  Di  puckered  her  brow. 
"Who  could  keep  it  from  us?" 

"The  Mexicans,"  her  companion  replied.  "You 
see  that  was  before  the  war  was  ended,  and  they 
held  your  pa  one  day  because  he  was  an  American 
spy  and  another  because  he  was  a  spy  from  old 
Spain." 

"You  mean  my  father  was  a  prisoner!"  Di 
spoke  excitedly. 

"Sure !"  said  the  man.  "Didn't  he  say  anything 
about  that?" 

"No,"  answered  Di,  "he  didn't.  He  only  wrote 
that  he  couldn't  come  back  to  us  for  the  present.  So 
he  sent  us  money — now  I  remember — he  said,  *by 
the  hand  of  a  friend  who  was  going  to  Panama  from 
the  Port  of  San  Diego'.    But  papa  was  never  a  spy." 

"Of  course  not,"  J.  B.  Smith  agreed,  "but  he 
broke  into  the  country  at  a  bad  time.  They  didn't 
know  which  they  hated  worse  about  then,  Ameri- 
cans or  Spaniards." 

"But  father  had  nothing  to  do  with  Spaniards," 
Di  protested. 

"He  spoke  Spanish,  didn't  he?"  Smith  asked. 


News  of  Mr.  Carter  211 

"Yes,"  said  Di.  "At  one  time  he  did  most  of  his 
hunting  and  trading  in  New  Mexico." 

"Well,"  Smith  went  on,  "this  is  what  happened. 
He  and  a  small  party  of  men  came  into  California 
by  accident,  as  you  might  say.  They'd  run  out  of 
food  and  nearly  died  of  thirst  in  the  desert,  but  they 
got  there  alive.  At  first  they  were  treated  all  right 
enough,  if  not  cordially,  but  one  night  they  inter- 
ferred  in  an  affair  that  made  them  unpopular  with 
the  authorities." 

"Yes,"  said  Di,  "go  on." 

"There  was  a  very  rich  hidalgo,  a  ranchero  of 
course,  who  owned  miles  of  land  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  San  Gabriel  Mission.  He  was  suspected  of 
having  more  fondness  for  Spain  than  for  the  Mexi- 
can Republic  and  this  did  not  make  him  a  favorite 
with  the  government.  So  they  planned  to  seize  his 
only  son,  who  was  on  a  visit  to  San  Diego,  and  hold 
him  for  a  ransom." 

"But  how  could  the  government  do  a  thing  like 
that?"     Di  demanded. 

"Their  government  did  things  without  bothering 
about  rights  and  wrongs,"  Smith  declared,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders.  "Anyhow,  they  prepared  an  am- 
bush for  the  young  man.  He  walked  into  it,  and 
your  father  and  his  men  sailed  in  and  rescued  him, 
spoiling  all  their  plans." 

"That's  just  the  sort  of  thing  my  father  would 
do!"  declared  Di  with  flashing  eyes.  "Well,  that 
fixed  them,  didn't  it?" 


212  Diantha's  Quest 

*'No,  it  fixed  him**  Smith  answered  grimly.  "The 
authorities  vowed  he  was  a  brigand  who  had 
waylaid  the  young  man;  that  he  was  a  spy — ^just 
whose  spy  changed  from  day  to  day — planning  to 
carry  the  young  caballero  out  of  the  country  and 
mulct  his  father  of  a  fortune.  And  the  only  thing 
that  kept  them  from  executing  your  pa  out  of  hand 
was  the  young  man  himself." 

"Of  course,"  said  Di  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  "he 
knew  who  had  really  attacked  him." 

"He  did,"  Smith  continued,  "but  remember,  he 
had  to  fight  a  government,  which  was  none  too  fond 
of  him  already.  However  the  young  gentleman 
sent  for  his  father,  who  saw  through  the  whole 
crafty  business  at  once  and  took  the  only  way  pos- 
sible to  fight  it.     He  called  in  the  Church!" 

"The  Church !"  Di  was  puzzled. 

"The  Roman  Catholic  Church,"  Smith  explained. 
"Though  the  hidalgo  wasn't  popular  with  the  gov- 
erment  and  the  military  he  was  with  the  Church. 
It  had  no  cause  to  complain  of  his  generosity,  and  if 
your  father  hadn't  been  a  heretic — that's  a  Protest- 
ant— ^there'd  have  been  no  further  trouble.  Even  as 
it  was  he  and  his  men  were  finally  paroled  in  the 
custody  of  the  hidalgo,  with  the  understanding  that 
they  would  not  leave  the  country.  He  was  still  on 
the  hidalgo's  rancho,  Buenos  Aguas,  when  I  heard 
this  story." 

"Heard  this  story?"  Di  echoed  in  surprise. 
"Didn't  you  see  my  father?" 


News  of  Mr.  Carter  213 

"No,"  Mr.  Smith  explained.  "I  had  the  tale 
from  a  rough,  bragging  sort  of  ne'er-do-well.  It 
was  just  after  gold  was  found  at  Sutter's  saw-mill, 
and  I  got  the  fever  as  everybody  else  did.  I  went 
down  to  the  Bay  to  outfit  before  going  up  to  the 
diggings,  and  it  was  there  I  ran  into  this  man  I'm 
telling  you  about.  The  town  was  pretty  empty,  but 
there  were  enough  people  left  to  keep  a  game  going 
in  almost  every  shack.  It  seemed  as  if  finding  gold 
had  set  everybody  gambling  in  one  way  or  another. 

"Well,  I  was  sitting  down  one  evening  watching 
four  fellows  playing  cards.  One  of  them  was  this 
man  I  spoke  of  and  he  was  losing  everything  he  had. 
When  his  last  cent  was  apparently  gone  he  opened 
a  package  that  was  all  done  up  for  the  express  com- 
pany and  took  out  a  lot  more  money.  But  his  luck 
didn't  change  and  pretty  soon  he  was  cleaned  out 
entirely. 

"I  was  tired  by  this  time  and  started  off  to  turn 
in  for  the  night,  when  this  hard-luck  party  followed 
me  out  and  began  to  beg  me  to  grub-stake  him  to 
the  mines.  Now  a  man  who  gambles  with  the  money 
he  has  put  by  for  his  wife  and  children  isn't  one  to 
be  trusted,  so  I  refused  him,  flat.  But  he  wouldn't 
let  mc  alone.  He  promised  to  pay  me  back  even  if 
he  didn't  make  a  strike.  Said  he  had  a  good  job 
down  in  the  south  and  told  me  about  the  Buenos 
Aguas  Rancho.  He  related  this  story  of  Captain 
Carter,  exphimlng  that  he  had  been  sent  up  north 


214  DIantha's  Quest 

on  an  errand  but  didn't  mean  to  go  back  till  he'd 
made  his  pile. 

**To  tell  the  truth  I  didn't  believe  a  word  of  it,  but 
now  that  I've  met  you  and  your  mother  I  think  may- 
be there's  something  in  it.  Anyway  I  didn't  stake 
him.    He  wasn't  my  kind  of  a  man." 

"But  who  was  he?"  Di  asked. 

"He  was  one  of  your  father's  trappers,"  Smith 
explained.  "I  guess  he  told  me  everything  that  had 
ever  happened  to  him  except  his  name.  He  seemed 
a  little  shy  about  that." 

"Why  should  he  be?"  Di  asked  curiously.  "He 
wasn't  a  slave.  Now  that  the  war  has  ended  and 
California  belongs  to  the  United  States,  they  aren't 
on  parole  any  more,  are  they?" 

"No,"  Smith  agreed,  "I  s'pose  no  one  could  make 
him  go  back.  But  he  may  have  had  his  own  reasons. 
At  any  rate,  Missy,  that's  all  I  know.  I've  written 
it  all  out  and  it's  in  one  of  my  alforjas.  I'll  leave 
the  paper  for  your  mother  as  I  go  by." 

"Aren't  you  going  to  make  a  stop  here?"  Di 
asked,  disappointed. 

"No,"  said  Smith.  "I'll  have  to  hustle  along  to 
catch  up  as  it  is,  and  I've  told  you  all  I  know.  Your 
father  was  at  the  Buenos  Aguas  Rancho  a  little  over 
a  year  ago.  If  he  hasn't  lit  out  for  the  diggings  like 
the  rest  of  us,  he's  there  yet,  most  likely." 

"Mother's  asleep,"  DI  told  him.  "She's  been 
nursing  a  sick  baby  and  needs  the  rest  badly.     I'd 


News  of  Mr.  Carter  21S 

hate  to  wake  her  unless  there's  something  else  you 
can  think  of/' 

*'If  you  want  to  ask  me  anything  a  letter  will  al- 
ways reach  me  at  Sutter's  Fort.  J.  B.  Smith's  the 
name.  Don't  forget  the  J.  B.  It's  no  use  to  disturb 
Mrs.  Carter,  that's  all  I  know  of  the  matter.  I'll 
drop  the  paper  for  her  at  the  camp." 

Smith  waved  his  hat  and  his  horse  loped  off,  leav- 
ing a  thick  trail  of  dust  behind,  while  Di  sat  down 
to  consider  this  news. 

To  her  mind  it  was  very  good.  It  located  her 
father  at  least  six  months  or  more  later  than  their 
last  previous  word  of  him.  In  fact  it  seemed  that 
the  map  must  have  been  sent  while  her  father  was 
at  the  rancho. 

What  puzzled  her  now  was  why  no  letter  had  ac- 
companied the  map.  Surely  if  he  could  send  the 
one  he  could  send  the  other.  The  only  conclusion 
she  could  come  to  was  that  he  had  written  and  the 
letter  had  miscarried.  And  of  course  it  was  always 
possible  that  other  letters  had  arrived  since  they 
had  left  the  East. 

But  now  she  felt  that  they  had  a  real  starting- 
point  from  which  to  search  for  him,  and  she  took 
her  way  back  to  camp  greatly  cheered. 

Sam,  who  had  been  wondering  where  she  was, 
came  to  meet  her  and  read  her  face  at  a  glance. 

"Someone  has  told  you  the  baby's  better!"  he  ex- 
claimed. 


216  DIantha's  Quest 

"Yes,"  said  DI,  "and  oh,  Sam,  another  splendid 
thing  has  happened!  I've  had  good  news  of  father!" 

She  poured  out  her  tale  to  an  accompaniment  of 
whistling.  Sam  wasn't  going  to  run  any  risk  of 
breaking  the  charm  of  the  magic  well  by  saying  a 
word,  but  It  was  all  he  could  do  to  contain  himself, 
so  he  had  recourse  to  his  usual  safety  valve. 

"That's  right!"  cried  DI.  "Whistle,  Sam,  whistle! 
Make  up  something  glad,  and  triumphant  and 
thankful,  like  a  bird  that  sees  the  sun  rise  on  a  beau- 
tiful day  In  Spring.  I  wish  I  could  do  It  for  myself, 
but  I've  only  words  to  do  it  with,  and  they  aren't 
enough." 

So  the  boy  whistled  joyously  for  his  friend,  with 
never  a  regretful  note  for  the  ambitions  he  had  re- 
llnqulshed  when  he  made  his  unselfish  wish. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

SOURBALL  IN  TROUBLE 

THE  J.  B.  Smith  pack  train  had  told  the  S. 
Brands  of  a  meadow  about  thirty-five  miles  dis- 
tant where  they  could  make  hay,  but  warned 
them  that  they  would  not  see  a  spear  of  grass  till 
they  got  there,  a  prediction  which  they  found  to 
have  been  literally  true,  when  finally  they  reached 
their  goal. 

The  camp  was  made  and  the  men  went  hay  mak- 
ing; but  as  the  meadow  was  marshy  and  it  was  nec- 
essary to  carry  the  grass  about  a  mile  through  water 
three  feet  deep,  Uncle  Toby  was  too  old  for  the 
work  and  Mrs.  Carter's  thin  purse  was  opened  to 
pay  an  Indian  for  bringing  forage  for  the  mules. 

"We  will  get  to  California  penniless!"  she  ex- 
claimed with  a  worn  smile. 

"Never  mind  so  long  as  we  get  there,"  said  Di. 
"I  never  wanted  to  find  gold  before,  but  now  I  mean 
to  dig  enough  to  take  us  to  papa." 

"Wonderful  miners  we'd  make,"  Mrs.  Carter 
laughed  bravely,  "but  oh,  Di,  it's  something  to 
know  where  he  was  a  year  ago,  isn't  it?" 

They  started  again  in  the  cool  of  the  evening 

217 


218  Diantha's  Quest 

and,  coming  to  a  slough,  took  in  a  fresh  supply  of 
water  but  the  number  of  deserted  wagons  increased 
as  they  progressed  and  it  was  noticeable  that  their 
owners  no  longer  wasted  energy  in  destroying  what 
they  left  behind.  Indeed  death  camps  were  a  com- 
mon sight  and  were  avoided  for  fear  of  pestilence. 
The  abandoned  wagons,  with  their  dead  animals  be- 
side them,  told  all  too  plainly  that  one  more  party 
had  been  forced  to  press  onward  carrying  all  their 
possessions  on  their  backs. 

Even  the  S.  Brands  were  not  to  escape  this  entire- 
ly. Step  by  step  along  the  way  one  after  another 
had  thrown  out  cherished  treasures.  Those  who  had 
had  two  wagons  had  been  reduced  to  one.  The 
Cronins  had  been  loaned  one  of  the  Carters'  mules 
to  enable  them  to  keep  going  at  all.  The  Tupper's 
riding  horses  had  taken  their  place  in  teams,  too 
broken  spirited  to  protest.  At  one  point  there  was 
a  dead  animal  for  every  hundred  yards  of  road, 
and  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  would  not  have 
paid  for  the  valuables  which  lay  abandoned  within 
twenty  miles.  Such  was  the  dreaded  Humboldt 
Sink. 

"It's  like  a  horrid  dream,"  Di  sighed. 

"We  have  a  great  deal  to  be  thankful  for,"  her 
mother  reminded  her.  "We're  all  alive  and  fairly 
well,  even  little  Tim  Cronin." 

"Dad  and  I  are  goin'  to  leave  our  wagon  at 
the  next  camp,"   Sam   announced,    "there's  just  a 


Sourball  in  Trouble  219 

chance,  if  we  do,  that  the  horses  will  live  to  get 
over  the  mountains/' 

"We'll  soon  be  nothing  but  a  pack-train,"  Mrs. 
Carter  declared,  forcing  a  smile. 

"We'll  soon  be  in  California,"  Di  said  sturdily. 

"That's  the  way  to  talk,"  Sam  cried.  "In  this 
old  desert  it  doesn't  seem  as  if  we  were  getting  any- 
where; but  most  of  it  is  behind  us  already." 

"There's  a  trader  come  along  with  water,"  Uncle 
Toby  suggested  anxiously.  "He  ain't  askin'  so  much 
neither,  considerin'  how  far  he's  packed  it."  The 
old  man's  heart  was  set  upon  getting  his  mules 
through  alive,  as  Mrs.  Carter  knew  well. 

"How  much  is  it.  Uncle  Toby?"  she  asked. 

"A  dollar  a  gallon,"  he  said.  "Two  gallons,  Li'l 
Miss  will  do  a  lot  to  cheer  those  mules  up.  That's  a 
gallon  each." 

"You're  forgetting  Salt,"  his  mistress  said,  taking 
her  last  three  dollars  from  her  purse  and  giving 
them  to  him. 

"  'Pears  like  the  Cronins  ought  to  buy  water  for  a 
mule  they's  drivin,"  Uncle  Toby  suggested. 

"They  would  if  they  could,  Uncle  Toby,"  Mrs. 
Carter  told  him,  "but  they  haven't  the  money." 

"I  gwine  be  mighty  happy  when  I  see  Marse 
Charles,"  the  old  man  muttered  as  he  turned  away. 
A  poor  Carter  he  could  understand  but  a  Carter 
absolutely  without  resources  he  had  never  had  to 
consider  before.  Always,  from  somewhere,  what 
they  wanted  had  been  forthcoming,  and  Uncle  Toby 


220  Diantha's  Quest 

was  a  little  old,  and  slow  at  accepting  this  new  situa- 
tion. 

Although  they  were  not  yet  out  of  the  desert  the 
breaking  up  of  the  S.  Brand  party  began  here.  Some 
of  the  younger  men,  who  had  been  forced  to  abandon 
their  wagons,  asked  and  received  permission  of 
Captain  Brand  to  push  on  to  the  mines  with  pack 
animals.  The  protection  of  numbers  was  no  longer 
a  necessity  as  it  was  on  the  plains,  and  it  was  not 
fair  to  hold  those  able  to  travel  faster  to  the  pace  of 
the  loaded  prairie  schooners.  Sam  and  Captain 
Brand  might  have  gone  on  with  this  party  to  their 
own  advantage,  but  the  latter  was  not  one  to  take 
his  responsibilities  lightly.  He  had  accepted  the 
leadership  of  the  train  and,  until  they  were  safely 
over  the  Sierras,  he  could  not  feel  himself  free. 

A  few  days  later  the  white  mules  began  to  throw 
up  their  heads  and  bray,  regardless  of  the  heavy 
sand  through  which  they  were  plowing. 

"They  sure  smell  water!*'  Uncle  Toby  cried,  and 
when  the  banks  of  the  Carson  river  were  reached  at 
last  they  could  hardly  wait  to  be  unharnessed  before 
plunging  into  the  stream.  Indeed  many  of  the  men 
ran  in  fully  clothed  and  were  none  the  worse  for  it. 

"I  felt  as  if  I  were  a  sponge  sopping  up  water," 
Sam  explained  to  Di.  "I  think  the  old  desert  had 
dried  up  even  the  marrow  in  my  bones." 

A  day's  rest  with  plentiful  water  seemed  to  do 
wonders  for  all,  and  they  pressed  on  again,  eager  to 
be  over  the  Sierras.     Already  they  began  to  feel 


Sourball  in  Trouble  221 

themselves  near  their  journey's  end,  for  they  met 
traders,  just  twelve  days  out  from  Sacramento  City, 
who  offered  them  flour  at  a  dollar  and  a  half  a 
pound;  sugar  at  a  dollar  and  a  quarter;  and  bacon  at 
a  dollar. 

The  Carters  were  on  short  rations,  but  it  was  use- 
less to  look  longingly  at  these  luxuries.  They  had 
no  money  and  they  must  get  along  as  best  they  could 
till  they  were  able  to  sell  the  mules  and  wagon  in 
California. 

A  Mormon  station,  reached  that  afternoon, 
offered  sugar  and  bacon  at  one  dollar  and  seventy- 
five  cents,  an  increase  on  the  traders'  prices.  The 
people  there  were  also  very  generous  with  unasked- 
for  advice. 

According  to  them  it  was  useless  to  try  to  take  the 
wagons  on  from  that  point.  Of  course  they  could 
not  buy  them,  or  any  surplus  stores  the  emigrants 
had.  They  were  overstocked  already  and  the  end  of 
the  season  was  in  sight;  but  the  S.  Brands  would  find 
they  needed  seven  teams  at  least  to  get  one  wagon 
over  the  summit.    That  was  sure ! 

Captain  Brand  consulted  the  other  men  and  they 
all  finally  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  story  was 
Drobably  nothing  more  than  the  usual  Mormon  lie. 
But  the  next  day,  when  they  went  on  again,  they 
found  there  was  too  much  truth  in  it  for  comfort. 
The  road  defied  description.  There  were  rocks  the 
size  of  sugar  barrels,  and,  with  eight  feet  of  snow 
at  the  summit,  the  cold  was  intense  and  the  heavy 


222  Diantha's  Quest 

clothing  thrown  away  on  the  plains  was  badly  missed. 

The  cattle  were  utterly  fagged  when  they  had  sur- 
mounted this  ridge  and  camp  was  made  for  the  night 
in  the  first  valley. 

"These  are  the  Witches'  Mountains,  all  right," 
Sam  said  to  Di;  "I  wonder  if  we  coiild  turn  these 
stones  into  Lords  and  Princes  if  we  had  a  fairy  wand 
to  touch  them  with?** 

"Fm  sure  we  could,"  Di  answered.  "They  look 
like  that.  We  ought  soon  to  hear  the  voice  of  some 
noble  prisoner  mourning  at  his  captivity.  Listen  T* 
she  held  up  her  finger. 

They  had  walked  on  a  short  distance  as  they 
talked  and  now  were  somewhat  above  the  camp  from 
which,  in  the  stillness  they  heard  a  low  murmur; 
but  nearer  than  that,  and  farther  on  toward  the  west, 
there  came  to  them  an  unmistakable  groan. 

"What  was  that?"  asked  Di  sharply,  moving 
closer  to  Sam  for  company. 

"I — I  don't  know,"  answered  the  boy,  infected 
by  her  nervousness. 

Again  came  the  groan  and  Sam  reached  for  his 
pistol. 

"You  go  back  to  camp.  I've  got  to  see  what  it 
is." 

"I'm  going  with  you,"  Di  declared.  "You've  only 
to  shoot  off  your  pistol  to  bring  help — and  we  can 
run  if  it's  anything  queer,"  she  added  as  an  after- 
thought. 

Cautiously  the  two  advanced  along  the  road  and 


Sourball  in  Trouble  223 

peered  down  into  a  small  box-canon  from  whence 
the  sound  proceeded.  Then  they  drew  back  and 
looked  at  each  other  in  astonishment. 

**It's  Sourball,"  said  Sam  at  last. 

"What  do  you  think's  the  matter  with  him?"  Di 
inquired. 

"He  and  his  wagon  have  gone  over  the  edge," 
Sam  declared.  "We'll  have  to  find  out  how  much 
he's  hurt." 

"Call  down  to  him,"  Di  suggested. 

"Hi,  down  there  I"  he  shouted,  but  received  no 
answer. 

"Whistle!"  Di  commanded,  and  Sam  sent  forth  a 
piercing  blast. 

"Do  you  hear  me?"  he  shouted  again.  "Are  you 
hurt?"  But  again  there  was  no  answer  although 
the  groaning  had  stopped. 

"We'll  have  to  go  down,"  said  DI.  "There's  no 
help  for  it.  Anyhow  the  side  of  the  hill  isn't  much 
more  dangerous  than  the  road." 

So  together,  slipping,  sliding  and  jumping,  they 
at  last  reached  the  overturned  wagon.  Sourball 
was  seated  beside  it,  but  did  not  welcome  their  ap- 
proach with  any  marked  enthusiasm. 

"Are  you  hurt?"  Sam  asked. 

"Not  much,"  returned  the  man  sullenly. 

"We  came  down  to  see  if  we  could  help  you,"  Di 
suggested. 

"You  would  do  nothing  when  I  had  money  to 


224  Diantha's  Quest 

pay,"  he  returned  showing  that  he  recognized  them. 
"You're  little  likely  to  be  useful  now." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  Di  said.  "We 
were  always  willing  to  do  what  we  could." 

"What  happened  to  you?"  Sam  asked  curiously. 

"Fd  lost  one  horse,  so  I  harnessed  myself  with  the 
other  and  made  shift  to  come  this  far,"  Sourball  re- 
plied. "The  last  horse  was  taken  with  something 
like  the  staggers  and  plunged  over  the  edge,  carry- 
ing me  and  everything  I  had  in  the  world  with  it." 

The  picture  of  this  fierce,  oldish  man  harnessed 
to  his  wagon  side  by  side  with  his  half-starved  horse 
etched  itself  on  Di's  mind.  It  seemed  horrible  to  her 
that  he  should  have  come  so  far  to  be  beaten  at  the 
last. 

"We're  short  of  horses,"  she  said  thoughtfully. 
"I  think  they're  deciding  now  to  leave  at  least  half 
the  wagons  here  and  double-team;  but  mother  and 
I  have  very  little  goods  left.  Tell  me  about  your 
machine.    Is  it  heavy?" 

The  sympathy  in  the  young  voice  pierced  even  the 
crusty  man's  armor. 

"It's  not  so  heavy,"  he  returned,  "but  I've  not 
dared  to  look  if  it's  smashed."  He  got  up  now  and 
hobbled  over  to  his  wagon.  This  was  a  light  affair 
and  beyond  a  wheel  torn  from  the  hub,  seemed  little 
the  worse.  The  horse  however  was  dead  without  a 
doubt. 

"If  we  cut  your  beast  out  of  the  harness,"  Sam 
said,"  we  might  be  able  to  right  the  wagon." 


Sourball  in  Trouble  225 

"Aye,"  agreed  Sourball,  "but  once  we  turn  it 
over  it  will  start  down  hill  again." 

"How  would  it  be,"  Di  suggested  eagerly,  "if  we 
cut  away  the  canvas  top  and  any  lashings  that  hold 
your  goods  in  the  wagon?  Then  if  you  throw  the 
wagon  off,  they  will  be  left  behind." 

"There's  sense  in  that,"  Sourball  said  approvingly, 
and  they  all  set  busily  to  work,  the  man  forgetting  his 
bruises  in  the  hope  of  salvaging  his  beloved  inven- 
tion. 

The  plan  worked  successfully,  and  as  the  wagon 
went  crashing  down  hill  his  machine  lay  revealed. 
Di's  heart  sank,  for  to  her  eye  it  was  an  utter  wreck; 
but  Sourball  ran  his  hands  over  it  lovingly  and  de- 
clared there  was  nothing  wrong  that  a  few  days' 
work  would  not  set  right  again.  So  it  was  carefully 
wrapped  in  the  canvas  top  and  roped  to  a  pole  in  or- 
der that  two  or  more  men  could  carry  it  up  the  moun- 
tainside to  the  road.  Sam  and  he  tried  to  lift  it  but 
the  boy,  although  sturdy,  was  not  strong  enough, 
and  it  was  decided  to  leave  it  where  it  was  for  the 
night  and  arrange  to  have  it  picked  up  next  day. 

SourbalPs  scanty  supply  of  food  was  next  gathered 
together  to  be  carried  into  camp;  but,  when  it  came 
to  the  point,  he  was  unable  to  make  up  his  mind  to 
desert  his  invention. 

"ril  sleep  with  it,"  he  said,  somewhat  shamefaced- 
ly. "I'd  not  rest  easy  away  from  it;  but  if  you  can 
take  me  on  with  you  I'll  be — "  he  hesitated  before 


226  DIantha's  Quest 

he  brought  out  the  unaccustomed  word,  "grateful!** 
he  ended,  and  turned  away. 

"Fm  sure  mother  will  manage  it,"  Di  called  after 
him,  then  Sam  and  she  raced  excitedly  back  to  camp. 

"Mother  dear,"  she  cried  on  reaching  their  wagon, 
"Sam  and  I  have  rescued  a  captive  from  the  Witches 
of  the  Mountain.  Truly  we  have !  It's  old  Sour- 
ball  and,  you'll  never  believe  it,  but  he's  something 
of  a  pet!" 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL 

OF  course  the  discovery  of  Sourball  in  such  a 
plight  added  one  more  burden  to  the  S. 
Brands'  portion,  but  no  one  dissented  from 
Di's  decision.  Having  come  so  far  through  sheer 
dogged  grit,  for  the  man  had  never  been  properly 
equipped,  it  seemed  to  everyone  that  he  deserved  to 
be  helped  through  to  the  gold  fields.  And  there  was 
no  grudging  the  aid  that  was  accorded  to  him 
when  Di's  cheerful  "Here's  Mr.  Ball  now,"  stopped 
the  train  where  he  awaited  them  by  the  roadside. 

"You've  had  a  bad  shaking  up.  Ball,"  Brand  said, 
"You  stay  where  you  are  and  some  of  the  rest  of 
us  will  go  after  your  contraption.  Don't  you  worry. 
We'll  carry  it  as  careful  as  if  it  was  a  teethin'  baby 
we  didn't  want  to  wake  up." 

And  they  were  as  good  as  their  word,  setting  the 
machine  in  safety  in  the  Carter's  wagon  where  a 
place  had  been  reserved  for  it  among  the  belongings 
of  tlie  Brands  and  other  people ;  for,  as  Di  had  told 
Sourball  the  evening  before,  the  S.  Brands  had  once 
more  cut  down  their  baggage  and  wagons  In  order 
to  double-team  the  rest. 

227 


228  DIantha's  Quest 

Seraphy  Tupper  had  brought  out  the  velvet  pelisse 
among  other  things  and  laid  it  by  the  road  side. 

"I'm  kissin'  it  good-by/'  she  said  to  her  sister 
Ruth,  who  was  watching  her.  "I  reckon  we  can 
count  ourselves  lucky  if  we  get  through  these 
mountains  with  what  we  stand  up  in/' 

Ruth  made  no  answer  to  this,  but  she  lingered 
behind  after  Seraphy  had  gone  on  and  Clara  Bell 
the  eldest  sister  came  upon  het  with  a  rolled  up 
bundle  in  her  arms. 

"What  you  got  there?"  she  demanded  curiously. 

"Seraphy's  velvets/'  Ruth  answered  tersely.  "She 
throwed  'em  away." 

"Did  Melindy  leave  out  her  bunrtet,  too,"  asked 
Clara  Bell  eagerly. 

"Yes,"  said  Ruth.  "You'll  find  it  back  there  a 
piece.  She  hung  it  on  a  bush  to  the  off-«ide  of  the 
road." 

Without  further  words  Clara  Bell  swooped  down 
upon  the  coveted  plunder.  Nothing  more  passed 
between  the  sisters.  The  bonnet  and  pelisse  had 
disappeared  as  if  by  magic,  but,  as  no  one  looked  for 
them,  this  curious  circumstance  was  not  remarked. 

After  Sourball's  invention  had  been  picked  up,  the 
advance  to  the  second  summit  was  begun.  They 
had  hardly  gone  a  hundred  yards  before  th^  lead 
team  on  the  Carter  outfit  stopped  and  refused  to 
budge.    Uncle  Toby  was  almost  in  tears. 

"They  done  took  away  my  own  little  white  mule," 


The  End  of  the  Trail  229 

he  said,  "and  gimme  these  here  no  account  horses. 
How  they  'spec's  we're  a-goin'  on?" 

But  the  condition  was  serious.  They  were  effec- 
tively blocking  the  road  and  everyone  behind  was 
giving  them  different  advice.  Some  suggested  mak- 
ing a  cart,  others  insisted  upon  their  abandoning 
wheels  altogether.  Finally  it  was  decided  to  lighten 
the  load  by  packing  the  pair  of  lead  horses  and  seeing 
if  the  mules  could  then  make  shift  for  themselves. 
This  was  done  and  the  horse  which  was  laden  with 
tins  promptly  took  fright  at  their  clattering  and  ran 
away.  However  there  was  only  one  direction  in 
which  it  could  run,  up,  and  the  poor  beast  was  soon 
recaptured,  exhausted,  and  its  load  transferred  to  a 
less  flighty  animal.  But  there  is  a  knack  in  packing 
that  is  not  to  be  learned  in  a  minute  and  the  loads 
continually  slipped.  At  sunset  the  party  had  covered 
but  six  miles  and  all  were  so  worn  out  that  camp 
was  made. 

"These  are  surely  the  Witches'  Mountains,"  Sam 
whispered  to  Di.  "Even  Dots  goes  as  if  she  had 
weights  tied  to  her  feet,  and  every  mile  is  as  long 
as  three." 

Di  nodded. 

"And  the  air  makes  you  so  hungry,"  she  said  rue- 
fully. "When  I  sit  down  to  supper  I  feel  like  the 
giant  who  always  swallowed  his  sheep  whole." 

"Mrs.  Cronin  says  that  even  little  Tim  has  a 
grand  appetite,"  Sam  chuckled  and  Di,  her  mind  at 
once  taken  off  their  own  dwindling  stores,  exclaimed, 


230  Diantha's  Quest 

''Goodness,  does  she?  I'd  better  run  and  tell  mother, 
or  she'll  stuff  him  till  he's  sick  again." 

But  she  was  too  late.  Little  Tim  already  was  pro- 
testing at  being  expected  to  digest  a  meal  fit  for  a 
man,  and  he  had  not  quite  recovered  two  days  later 
when  at  last  the  summit  of  the  range  was  reached 
and  a  land  of  plenty  lay  spread  out  below  them. 

Even  yet  all  the  difficulties  were  not  over.  The 
descent  presented  anything  but  an  easy  problem. 
The  road,  if  one  had  ever  existed,  had  vanished. 
The  only  thing  that  indicated  that  others  had  passed 
that  way  were  grooves  six  inches  deep  worn  in  the 
trees  by  ropes  used  in  lowering  the  wagons. 
Horses  and  mules  must  be  led  zig-zagging  down  in 
single  file. 

After  seeing  the  length  of  time  required  to  go  a 
scant  mile  Mrs.  Carter  called  Captain  Brand  to  her. 

"I've  made  up  my  mind  to  abandon  our  wagon," 
she  said.  "Uncle  Toby  is  not  equal  to  the  work.  All 
we  have  can  be  carried  on  one  mule.  Mr.  Ball  may 
use  the  other  and  we,  at  least,  will  no  longer  delay 
you." 

Brand  looked  at  her  with  considerable  admiration. 

"It  don't  hardly  seem  fair  to  you,"  he  said,  "seein' 
that  the  Cronins  have  one  of  your  mules  already." 

"They  can't  get  along  without  it."  Mrs.  Carter 
cut  him  short.  "  Besides  it  is  as  important  to  us  as 
to  you  to  get  out  of  the  mountains.  Uncle  Toby 
is  feeding  the  mules  oak  leaves  and  bark,  but  they 
are  not  thriving  on  the  diet.'* 


The  End  of  the  Trail  231 

Three  other  wagons  were  abandoned  at  this 
point  and  better  time  was  made  from  then  on.  Di, 
Sam  and  the  Cronin  children  found  raspberries, 
plums  and  gooseberries  in  abundance  and  feasted  on 
them,  while  everyone,  even  Sourball  rejoiced  in  the 
beautiful  flowers  which  were  everywhere  around 
them. 

"Look  at  the  myrtles !''  he  said  to  Di.  "Fresh  as 
in  May,  aren't  they.'' 

"It's  beautiful  here,  isn't  it,  Mr.  Ball?"  Di  re- 
sponded. 

"It's  like  Fairy-land,"  the  man  surprised  her  by 
saying.  "But  why  do  you  call  me  Mr.  Ball?  That 
isn't  my  name." 

"Isn't  it,"  said  Di,  taken  aback,  and  at  a  loss  to 
explain  that  she  had  derived  the  name  she  called 
him  from  a  derisive  nickname. 

"No,  it's  Deitz,"  the  man  explained.  "I  don't 
care  about  the  others,  but  I  want  you  and  your 
mother  to  know  it."  He  turned  away  abruptly,  hav- 
ing come  as  near  to  being  effusive  as  his  nature  would 
allow. 

Three  days  later  saw  them  in  the  gold  valley. 
Here  was  the  end  of  their  pilgrimage  together. 
Through  indescribable  hardships  they  had  plodded 
weary  miles  in  company,  easing  one  another's  bur- 
dens, ready  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  a  neighbor  in 
trouble,  making  common  cause  against  the  perils  of 
the  way.  Dangers  shared  had  knit  the  little  band 
with  close  ties  of  friendship,   and,  now  that  each 


232  Diantha's  Quest 

family  was  to  go  its  separate  way,  the  breaking  of 
those  bonds  brought  tears  and  heartaches.  Fare- 
wells were  said,  promises  to  send  word  of  how  each 
fared  were  exchanged,  little  mementoes  given  and 
taken. 

But  the  gold  that  had  lured  them  west  and  had 
steeled  their  courage  to  face  the  unknown  still  beck- 
oned, and  now  that  it  seemed  within  their  grasp 
they  itched  to  be  digging  for  the  yellow  metal. 

A  few,  mostly  young  men,  were  keen  to  locate  at 
once  and  wash  out  a  fortune  or  two  before  they 
sought  a  town  to  refit. 

The  Cronins,  bound  for  a  camp  further  north 
toward  Mt.  Shastl,  where  Cronin's  brother  had  re- 
ported that  he  was  making  "grand  money,"  took 
one  Carter  mule  with  them,  promising  to  send  back 
the  price  of  it  as  soon  as  Cronin  had  dug  it  out  of 
the  ground. 

Sourball,  with  a  similar  promise,  borrowed  the 
second  mule  to  push  on  to  Sacramento  City,  where 
he  intended  to  repair  his  machine,  and  then  go  up  the 
Feather  River.  Mrs.  Carter  was  to  forward  her  ad- 
dress to  Sutter's  Fort  for  him  when  once  she  was 
permanently  located. 

At  last  all  that  was  left  of  the  S.  Brand  wagon 
train  were  its  captain,  his  son,  and  the  Carter  party. 

"What  are  you  plannin*.  Mis'  Carter?"  Brand 
asked  her.  "WeVe  been  together  so  long  I  kind 
of  feel  responsible  for  you  ladies  yet." 

"I  have  to  find  my  husband,  Mr.  Brand,"  Mrs, 


The  End  of  the  Trail  233 

Carter  said,  "but  before  we  can  go  on,  I  must  earn 
some  money  somehow.  You  see  I  had  counted  on 
the  sale  of  the  mules  and  the  wagon  to  carry  us  a 
little  further,  where  we  could  perhaps  send  a  mes- 
senger to  find  Mr.  Carter  and  advise  him  of  our 
situation." 

"I  don't  want  to  interrupt,''  said  Captain  Brand, 
"but  do  you  mean  you  ain't  got  nothin'  but  the 
mules?" 

"That's  all  we  have  left,"  Mrs.  Carter  admitted  a 
trifle  reluctantly.  She  had  no  wish  to  make  a  claim 
upon  Captain  Brand's  pity. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Carter?"  was  the  next  question, 
asked  with  a  puckered  brow,  and  by  degrees  Cap- 
tain Brand  was  put  in  command  of  the  entire  situa- 
tion. 

"It  comes  down  to  this,"  Brand  said  at  last.  "If 
we  had  money,  we  could  send  someone  to  hunt  for 
Mr.  Carter.  As  we  haven't,  for  all  I  have  by  me 
belongs  to  the  club  that  sent  me  here,  we're  'bliged 
to  wait  till  we  earn  some.    Either  me  or  Sammy." 

"But  I  can't  be  a  burden  upon  you,"  Mrs.  Carter 
began,  when  Sam  interrupted  her  eagerly,  one  finger 
pointing  to  a  paragraph  in  a  little  brown  paper  book 
he  held  toward  her. 

"You  could  make  some  money  yourself,  Mis'  Car- 
ter," he  suggested,  "if  you'd  be  willin,'  that  is. 
Read  this." 

"  *A  store  and  several  boarding  shanties',"  Mrs. 
Carter  read,  and  seizing  his  idea  at  once,  she  said. 


234  Diantha's  Quest 

"But  we  haven't  any  supplies  to  start  a  boarding 
table,  Sam." 

"I  think  the  miners  would  pay  a  little  just  to  have 
cookin'  done  for  them,''  Sam  replied  readily.  "Their 
own  food,  I  mean.  Most  of  them  don't  know  any 
cookin'  except  to  stir  a  little  yeast  powder  up  with 
some  flour  and  water  and  call  it  biscuits  when  they've 
burnt  it  round  the  edges." 

"That's  the  ticket.  Mis'  Carter,"  Brand  exclaimed. 
"That's  a  job  you  can  leave  any  time  you're  a-mind 
to,  and  there's  nothin'  to  prevent  writin'  or  sendin' 
some  word  to  Mr.  Carter  while  you're  doin'  it." 

So  it  was  settled  that  the  two  little  parties  should 
stay  together  for  a  time  at  least,  and  they  got  into 
Weaversville  that  afternoon  where  they  traded  one 
of  Brand's  horses  for  a  light  cart.  Here  also  they 
met  two  of  the  young  men  who  had  left  them  in  the 
desert  and  they  reported  that  provisions  were  high 
and  gold  scarce  thereabout.  This  decided  them  to 
go  to  one  of  the  streams  mentioned  favorably  in 
Sam's  invaluable  guide  book  and  a  week  later  they 
were  established  some  ten  miles  above  the  workings 
of  Sunol  and  Company  on  Weber's  Creek.  Here  they 
found  a  shanty  deserted  by  two  men  who  had  rushed 
off  at  the  news  of  a  heavy  strike  on  the  Cosumne 
River  although  they  had  been  making  close  to  forty 
dollars  a  day  where  they  were.  Sam  and  Mr.  Brand, 
Captain  no  longer,  took  up  claims  and  set  to  work 
feverishly,  each  hoping  to  strike  it  rich  before  the 
other,  and  the  days  passed  in  rapid  succession. 


The  End  of  the  Trail  235 

Mrs.  Carter  ^nd  Di  helped  Uncle  Toby  to  make 
two  small  additions  to  their  cabin.  Their  room  was 
roofed  with  boughs  and  the  canvas  of  their  wagon 
top,  which  they  had  brought  with  their  possessions 
bundled  in  it,  while  Uncle  Toby  made  similar  use 
of  his  tent.  They  hoped  that  this  would  give  suffi- 
cient protection  even  in  the  rainy  season,  still  some 
weeks  off. 

Sam's  prediction  that  miners  would  be  found  glad 
to  pay  to  have  their  cooking  done  for  them  proved 
correct,  and  soon  Mrs.  Carter  had,  beside  Sam  and 
Mr.  Brand,  six  other  men  to  cater  for.  Only  lack 
of  accommodation  kept  others  away  from  her  table. 

Di  kept  the  main  room  gay  with  flowers  and  ber- 
ries, and  Uncle  Toby  swept  and  scrubbed  assidu- 
ously ;  but  at  best  the  place  was  a  poor  substitute  for 
a  home  and  Mrs.  Carter  began  to  doubt  her  wisdom 
in  making  that  long  hard  march  across  the  trail. 

She  did  not  grieve  for  herself  nor  did  she  grudge 
the  work.  In  fact  she  was  more  than  glad  that  she 
had  found  some  means  by  which  she  could  earn  her 
living  in  that  rough  camp.  But  she  was  not  happy 
when  she  thought  of  her  daughter's  surroundings. 
The  miners  treated  them  with  an  exaggerated  re- 
spect, but  they  were  rough  men  for  the  most  part, 
and  Mrs.  Carter  began  to  ask  herself  whether  she 
would  not  have  done  more  wisely  to  have  put  her 
pride  in  her  pocket  and  returned  to  Virginia,  where 
her  child  would  have  the  advantages  of  gentle  as- 
sociates to  which  she  was  entitled. 


236  Diantha's  Quest 

Not  that  Di  was  unhappy.  Far  from  it  The 
girl  was  the  friend  and  confidant  of  almost  every 
man  in  the  camp.  Hardly  a  day  passed  that  some 
little  gift  was  not  tendered  to  one  or  other  of  the 
"ladies"  by  these  rather  lonely  men,  who  were 
grateful  for  the  touch  of  home  the  two  gave  to  the 
place.  Had  she  been  alone  Mrs.  Carter  would 
have  been  happy  in  the  thought  that  she  was  on  the 
road  to  find  her  husband;  but  Di's  presence  was  a 
source  of  constant  anxiety  and  there  were  times  when 
she  felt  that  Mr.  Carter  was  even  farther  away  than 
he  had  seemed  before  she  had  taken  that  venture- 
some journey. 

On  one  of  these  trying  days  for  Mrs.  Carter  she 
was  sitting  alone  in  the  main  room  of  their  shack. 
Suddenly  a  figure  darkened  the  door-way  of  the 
cabin  and  a  man's  voice  called  to  her. 

^'Missus,"  he  began  dolefully,  "  a  miner  told  me 
there  was  a  lady  doctor  here.'* 

"He  must  have  meant  me,'*  Mrs.  Carter  replied. 
"Come  in,  and  tell  me  what  I  can  do  for  you." 

The  man  shambled  into  the  room  and  held  out  a 
gaily  labeled  bottle  toward  the  seated  woman. 

"Can  you  tell  me,"  be  blurted  out,  "is  this  here 
Panacea  any  good?"  Mrs.  Carter  took  the  bottle, 
shaking  her  head  and  smiling  half  sadly.  This  was 
not  a  new  sort  of  case  for  her;  but  the  man  went 
on  volubly  now  that  he  was  started.  "I've  took 
quarts  of  that,  ma'am.  Before  that  it  was  K.  F. 
Hibbard's  Bitters !  Why  there  ain't  nothin'  I  haven't 


The  End  of  the  Trail  237 

tried  that  I  know  of.  There's  Chelcea  Syrup  I  May- 
be IVe  stowed  away  a  dozen  bottles  o'  that  stuff. 
And  then  there's  those  little  pink  Indian  pills  in 
the  blue  box  that  everybody  says  are  grand.  They 
didn't  touch  me,  though  I've  eaten  hundreds!  And 
it's  the  same  with  the  Shaker's  Tomsonian  medicines 
and  Mr.  A.  Gilbert's  Pills.  I've  given  'em  all  a 
chance,  but  nothin'  seems  to  take  hold  o'  me  right," 
he  ended  mournfully. 

"Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  to  give  your  poor  stom- 
ach a  rest,  Mr.  Yerber?"  Mrs.  Carter  asked,  hav- 
ing recognized  her  distressed  visitor. 

The  man  started  and  looked  at  her  keenly  as  she 
spoke  his  name,  then  shook  his  head.  He  had  only 
seen  the  lady  once  and  she  had  worn  a  sunbonnet  on 
that  occasion,  so  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  he 
had  no  recollection  of  her. 

"That's  my  name,  ma'am,"  he  replied,  "Guess 
youVe  heard  o'  me  around  here.  But  what  do  you 
mean  by  givin'  my  stomach  a  rest?" 

"I  assume  you  have  indigestion  from  the  remedies 
you  have  been  taking,"  said  Mrs.  Carter. 

"Somethin'  terrible!"  Yerber  declared,  "and  what 
I  aims  at  is  to  get  a  medicine  that  will  kind  o* 
strangle  it!  I'll  take  anything  you  say,  ma'am,  and 
much  obliged." 

"What  you  need  is  as  little  food  as  you  can  live 
on,"  Mrs.  Carter  announced  crisply.  "If  you  could 
get  it,  I  should  say  that  a  diet  of  milk  and  nothing 
else  was  best  for  you.    As  for  this  stuff,"  she  indi- 


238  Diantha's  Quest 

cated  the  bottle  in  her  hand,  "it's  ruining  your  diges- 
tion— or  what  is  left  of  it  after  the  other  patent 
nostrums  youVe  been  taking." 

"But,  ma'am,"  Yerber  began  in  protest,  "they've 
cost  enough  to  make  me  a  new  stomach,  and  they 
was  highly  recommended,  every  last  one  of  'em  I" 

At  that  moment  Di  came  running  in.  She  carried 
a  pair  of  grayish  birds  in  her  hand  and  at  first  paid 
no  heed  to  the  man  standing  there.  She  was  used  to 
finding  miners  consulting  Mrs.  Carter  about  all  sorts 
of  trivial  things,  and  at  the  moment  she  was  too 
interested  to  even  glance  at  the  visitor. 

"Look,  mama,"  she  cried  excitedly,  holding  up  the 
birds  so  that  her  mother  might  inspect  them.  "Aren't 
they  pretty?  See  their  cunning  little  topknots!  It 
seems  a  shame  to  kill  them." 

"Where  did  you  get  them?"  Mrs.  Carter  asked. 

"From  that  Frenchman  everybody  calls  "Keske- 
dee' — the  man  who  won  the  lottery  to  come  here," 
the  girl  replied.  "He  shot  them  for  you.  They're 
California  quail  and  very  good  to  eat."  She  turned, 
as  if  for  confirmation,  to  the  visitor  and  looked  up 
into  his  face.  "Why,  it's  Mr.  Yerber!"  she  ex- 
claimed. "I  thought  you  had  gone  to  Bidwell's 
Bar." 

The  moment  he  saw  Di,  Yerber  had  remembered 
where  he  had  encountered  these  two  before,  and 
for  an  instant  he  scowled,  then  a  rather  crafty  look 
came  into  his  eyes  and  by  the  time  Di  recognized  him 


The  End  of  the  Trail  239 

he  had  assumed  a  most  urbane  and  deferential  man- 
ner. 

"Why  I  recollect  now,  ma'am,"  he  said,  address- 
ing Mrs.  Carter.  "We  had  a  talk  Vay  back  near 
St.  Jo!  And  now  we're  meetin'  up  again  here. 
Queer,  ain't  it?" 

"It's  not  very  extraordinary,"  Mrs.  Carter  re- 
plied. 

"I  expected  we'd  see  you  again,  Mr.  Yerber,'*  Di 
remarked  and  her  voice  betrayed  something  of  the 
distrust  and  antagonism  she  felt  toward  this  man. 

"Well,  I  should  never  have  expected  it,"  Yerber 
commented  genially.  "You'll  excuse  my  sayin'  it, 
ma'am,  but  I  never  took  it  serious  that  you  and  your 
daughter  here  were  really  set  on  crossin'  by  the 
trail." 

"We  were,  you  see,"  Di  cut  in.  "You  wouldn't  let 
us  go  with  you,  but  we  found  others  who  did." 

"And  that  don't  say  my  advice  to  you  wasn't 
good,"  Yerber  insisted.  "This  ain't  a  place  for 
ladies  that  has  been  used  to  comforts  and  such. 
They  belong  back  home,  if  you  ask  me." 

"But  we  didn't  ask  you,"  Di  declared  pertly. 

"We  felt  obliged  to  come,  Mr.  Yerber,"  Mrs. 
Carter  said  amicably,  thinking  it  high  time  to  put 
a  stop  to  Di's  show  of  unfriendliness. 

"Well,  you  must  o'seen  for  yourself  that  gold  isn't 
to  be  picked  up  without  work  you  ain't  fit  for — if 
that's  what  you  came  to  get,"  he  added  significantly. 

"We  came  to  find  my  father,"  Di  informed  him. 


240  Diantha's  Quest 

"But  he  ain't  here/'  Yerber  declared. 

"How  can  you  be  so  sure  of  that?"  Di  demanded. 
"You  said  you  didn't  know  him." 

"Neither  I  do,"  the  man  returned  with  a  laugh 
intended  to  show  an  indifference  to  her  attitude  to- 
ward him  and  to  cover  up  his  slight  slip.  "I  wouldn't 
recognize  your  pa  if  I  was  to  bump  into  him  in  the 
street.  But  no  man  could  let  his  women  folks  work 
the  way  I  hear  you  are  working.  Not  in  these 
diggins.'  " 

These  words  touched  on  a  sensitive  nerve  although 
Yerber  had  no  idea  how  his  statement  rankled  in 
Mrs.  Carter's  brain.  Many  times  lately  she  had 
realized  that  the  rough  men  with  whom  she  was  as- 
sociated had  scant  respect  for  a  husband  who  would 
neglect  his  wife  and  child  as  she  and  her  daughter 
were  apparently  neglected.  She  could  not  take  the 
whole  camp  into  her  confidence,  but  the  miners'  at- 
titude of  mind  was  evident  in  more  ways  than  one, 
and  the  implied  criticisms  of  Mr.  Carter  hurt  her 
sorely.  Moreover  she  had  been  reproaching  her- 
self for  having  brought  Di,  and  now  this  uncouth 
Yerber  was  putting  into  words  thoughts  she  had  not 
dared  to  formulate.  For  herself  she  cared  not 
what  any  of  them  might  think  or  say,  but  she  would 
have  been  glad  if  Diantha  had  been  left  in  Virginia 
with  her  grandfather. 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue  to  make  a  suitable 
reply  to  Yerber's  last  remark  when  the  girl  spoke 
shortly. 


The  End  of  the  Trail  241 

"I'm  going  to  see  Sam,  mama,"  she  said  and, 
turning  on  her  heel,  quitted  the  room. 

After  her  departure  there  was  silence  for  a  mo- 
ment.    Then  Yerber  spoke. 

*'Seems  like  I  always  manage  to  rile  the  young 
lady,"  he  admitted  with  a  show  of  frankness. 
"Don't  know  how  it  is,  but  somehow  she  has  a  notion 
I  know  where  her  pa  is.  I  tell  you  plain,  ma'am,  I 
don't." 

"She's  only  a  child,  Mr.  Yerber,"  Mrs.  Carter 
replied.  She  herself  had  little  liking  for  this  bluster- 
ing adventurer,  but  she  had  no  wish  to  make  an 
enemy  of  him. 

"Don't  worry,"  he  went  on,  "I  ain't  takin'  it 
amiss.  Maybe  I'm  to  blame  for  your  bein'  in  this 
fix,  anyway." 

"I  hardly  see  that,"  Mrs.  Carter  returned. 

"Well,"  Yerber  drawled,  "you'll  allow  that  this 
ain't  no  place  for  a  woman." 

"I'm  not  complaining,  Mr.  Yerber,"  Mrs.  Car- 
ter said.  She  herself  felt  a  momentary  resentment 
toward  the  man  for  his  presumption,  which  he  was 
quick  to  note. 

"I  ain't  aimin'  to  interfere  with  your  business, 
ma'am,"  he  hastened  to  assure  her.  "That  ain't 
what's  frettin'  me.  Only  seein'  as  how  I  might 
have  showed  you  plainer  what  you  was  lettin'  your- 
self in  for,  back  there  in  St.  Jo,  I  kind  o'  blame  my- 
self for  not  doin'  it.  If  I'd  a-took  some  trouble 
pointin'  out  all  the  difficulties  you  was  to  encounter 


242  Diantha's  Quest 

when  you  got  here,  instead  o*  sayin\  short,  I 
wouldn't  take  your  outfit,  well, — maybe  you'd  a- 
stayed  east" 

**I  don't  believe  so,"  Mrs.  Carter  replied  frankly. 
"I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  come." 

"Well,  ma'am,  maybe  you  had,"  Yerber  conceded, 
"but  that  don't  no  ways  excuse  me  for  not  tellin' 
you.  Then,  too,  you  have  took  an  interest  in  my 
dispepsy,  and  I'd  like  to  make  it  up  to  you,  ma'am. 
We  all  have  to  help  each  other  out  in  these  diggin's, 
and  you  stand  in  need  o'  help  or  I  miss  my  guess." 

"We're  doing  as  well  as  can  be  expected  under 
the  circumstances,"  Mrs.  Carter  insisted. 

"I  know  all  that,  ma'am,"  Yerber  went  on.  "But 
how  long  is  it  goin'  to  last,  that's  what  I'm  askin' 
you?  You've  got  nothin'  to  count  on  here.  Gold  is 
comin'  in  mighty  slow,  and  the  minute  a  real  strike 
turns  up  anywhere  else  this  whole  crowd  will  light 
out  for  the  new  diggin's  before  sun-up.  Why,  ma'am, 
I've  seen  camps  where  there's  maybe  five  hundred 
men  one  night  and  the  next  mornin'  there  wasn't  one 
left  within  miles  of  the  place." 

Mrs.  Carter  gave  an  involuntary  start.  Here  was 
a  possibility  she  had  not  taken  into  account,  but 
there  was  no  question  of  its  probability.  She  remem- 
bered the  labor  that  had  gone  into  making  their  shack 
even  habitable,  and  she  shrank  from  the  thought  of 
having  to  rush  off  in  the  train  of  these  gold-crazed 
miners  to  make  another  home  for  herself  and  her 
daughter  in  an  unknown  spot.    It  was  only  too  true 


The  End  of  the  Trail  243 

that  any  day  might  bring  news  of  a  fresh  discovery 
to  which  the  men  would  flock,  leaving  behind  them 
paying  claims,  perhaps,  in  the  hope  of  finding  imagin- 
ary fortunes  in  the  new  location.  All  of  them,  know- 
ing the  work  they  were  obliged  to  do,  were  ready  to 
believe  that  a  richer  strike  was  to  be  found.  Reason 
played  no  part  in  their  decisions.  They  trusted  to 
luck,  learning  nothing  from  past  experiences  nor 
heeding  the  advice  of  those  few  who  kept  their  heads. 
Yerber  was  not  blind  to  the  fact  that  he  had  made 
an  impression  by  his  last  remark  and  went  on  to  am- 
plify it. 

"Then  there's  your  daughter,  ma'am,  You'll  ad- 
mit this  ain't  a  place  to  bring  her  up.  There  ain't 
any  advantages  like  she  ought  to  have — no  chance 
for  a  fine  education.  Where  can  you  get  teachers 
here  to  learn  her  to  make  wax  flowers,  or  paint 
pictures  on  velvet,  or  any  elegant  doin's  like  that?" 
"But  what  alternative  have  I?"  Mrs.  Carter  was 
giving  voice  to  the  despair  in  her  heart  rather  than 
appealing  to  the  man  before  her,  but  Yerber  had  a 
ready  answer. 

"You  leave  it  to  me,  ma'am,"  he  replied  confi- 
dentially. "I'll  get  you  the  money  to  go  back." 
"But  how?"  asked  Mrs.  Carter. 
"Oh,  the  miners  are  a  friendly  crowd,"  Yerber 
explained.  "I've  heard  'em  talk  around  these  dig- 
gin's.  They  kind  o'  think  you  ought  to  be  taken 
care  of,  and  all  I'll  have  to  do  is  to  speak  to  'em. 


244  Diantha's  Quest 

There  ain't  one  who  won't  chip  in  a  day's  pay  to  send 
you  back  home." 

Yerber  stopped  and  glanced  keenly  at  Mrs.  Car- 
ter, who,  busy  with  her  thoughts  was  looking  away 
from  him,  scarcely  conscious,  for  the  moment,  of 
his  presence.  Had  she  come  to  the  point  where  she 
was  ready  to  accept  charity?  The  very  fact  that 
she  did  not  instantly  reject  his  offer  showed  more 
plainly  than  she  herself  recognized  that  such  was  the 
case. 

But  Yerber,  for  all  his  apparent  generosity  and 
show  of  kindly  spirit,  was  not  wholly  disinterested. 
He  had  an  object  to  gain  which  he  thought  it  wise 
not  to  mention  yet.  He  could  make  his  bargain 
when  he  came  with  the  money  in  his  hand. 

"It's  the  young  lady,  your  daughter,  I'm  thinkin' 
of,"  he  remarked,  after  a  moment.  "To  tell  you 
the  truth  this  ain't  the  place  for  her.  You'll  excuse 
my  sayin'  it,  ma'am,  but  the  girl  if  she  stays  here, 
is  likely  to  grow  up  no  better  than  a  squaw!" 

He  had  thought  that  this  last  observation  would 
clinch  the  matter  but  there  was  a  point  beyond  which 
Mrs.  Carter  would  not  go.  Already  she  had  borne 
more  of  this  man's  talk  than  she  would  have  thought 
possible  a  few  months  back,  but  there  was  a  limit 
to  what  she  would  endure. 

"I  appreciate  your  kindly  intentions,  Mr.  Yerber," 
she  said,  rising,  "and  I'll  think  it  over.  But  you  will 
have  to  excuse  me  now.  I  have  duties  to  attend  to. 
I  hope  you  will  take  my  advice  and  throw  all  those 


The  End  of  the  Trail  245 

patent  nostrums  away."  Saying  which  she  left  Yer- 
ber  in  possession  of  the  main  room  and  went  out  into 
a  lean-to  which  served  as  their  kitchen. 

Alone  the  man  looked  about  him  curiously;  then 
instead  of  leaving  he  walked  with  stealthy  steps 
toward  the  rear  of  the  room  where  a  spot  of  color 
glowed.  Di,  feeling  the  need  of  ornament,  had 
hung  her  cherished  map  on  the  wall  and  the  man  ex- 
amined it  with  visibly  rising  excitement.  Suddenly 
he  made  as  if  to  seize  it,  when  a  soft  voice  stopped 
him  with  his  hand  in  the  air. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Uncle  Toby,  "that  there's  a 
mighty  prutty  little  contraption.  It  belong'  to  our 
Miss  Di.  Marse  Charles  sent  It  home  for  to  amuse 
the  child,  like." 

The  old  man  had  entered  the  cabin  quietly  and  set 
about  laying  the  table  for  the  next  meal,  and  Yerber, 
seeing  that  he  was  not  likely  to  have  the  place  to 
himself  again,  slapped  on  his  hat  and  left  without 
a  word. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

YERBER  SPEAKS  OUT 

ON  her  way  to  the  place  where  Sam  was  work- 
ing his  claim  Di  mused  thoughtfully  over  the 
sudden  reappearance  of  Yerber.  The  belief 
that  he  knew  something  of  her  father  had  taken 
complete  possession  of  her  and  nothing  he  could  say 
would  disabuse  her  mind  of  that  conviction.  She 
was  willing  to  admit,  even  to  herself,  that  the  inci- 
dent of  the  gloves  was  by  no  means  sure  proof  of 
this.  His  explanation  was  plausible  enough,  as  she 
realized  after  hearing  numerous  tales  of  Mexicans 
who  hovered  about  the  gold  fields.  But  instinctively 
she  distrusted  him  and  it  was  well-nigh  impossible 
for  her  to  be  civil  in  his  presence. 

Yerber's  arrival  seemed  to  take  all  the  joy  out 
of  her  life.  He  reminded  her  of  those  days  when 
they  were  in  St.  Joseph  waiting  to  start  out,  full 
of  -hope  and  certain  of  the  result  once  they  reached 
California.  The  trials  then  and  later  on  the  road 
were  quickly  forgotten,  because  there  was  always 
the  promise  that  she  would  find  her  father  as  soon 
as  the  journey  ended.  There  had  never  been  any 
doubt  in  her  mind  that  ultimately  they  would  meet 

246 


Yerber  Speaks  Out  247 

him,  but  at  length  they  had  reached  the  gold  fields 
and  days  had  gone  by  without  a  word  of  his  where- 
abouts. Di  had  much  the  same  feeling  as  her  mother 
that  in  California  they  were  no  nearer  to  him  they 
sought  than  they  had  been  before  they  made  the 
trip  across  the  continent. 

Their  lack  of  money  had  grown  daily  more  and 
more  irksome.  Letters  had  been  written  to  the 
ranch  In  the  south  that  Mr.  Smith  had  told  them  of, 
but  so  far  no  answer  had  come,  and  Di  longed  to 
go  there  herself.  She  wanted  to  search  from  one 
end  of  California  to  the  other,  and  would  never  have 
rested  until  her  quest  was  rewarded  had  they  not 
lacked  the  means  to  pay  their  way. 

At  first  she  and  her  mother  had  talked  of  taking 
up  a  claim  and  hunting  for  their  share  of  the  gold 
which  had  been  reported  as  so  plentiful,  but  they  had 
seen  nothing  to  encourage  this  idea.  They  soon 
learned  that  the  stories  of  quick  fortunes  easily  made 
were  mostly  fables,  and  that  steady  and  laborious 
work  was  necessary  to  obtain  any  of  the  precious 
metal.  Neither  of  them  had  the  strength  to  attempt 
it.  The  pay  dirt  had  to  be  dug  up,  carried  to  a  stream 
and  there  washed  till  nothing  but  sand  and  gold  was 
left.  This  remainder  was  dried  in  the  sun,  then  the 
sand  was  blown  away  with  a  bellows,  carrying  with  it 
a  great  part  of  the  fine  gold.  As  she  walked  along 
Di  watched  four  men  operating  a  cradle.  One  dug, 
another  carried  the  red  pay-dirt  to  the  machine,  the 
third  gave  it  a  violent  rocking  motion,   while  the 


248  Diantha's  Quest 

fourth  poured  in  bucket  after  bucket  of  water  to 
wash  away  the  soil.  Hour  after  hour,  day  in  and 
day  out,  they  toiled,  hoping  that  at  each  new  shovel- 
ful a  fortune  might  be  disclosed  to  them. 

In  some  places  the  gold-seekers  were  standing  in 
the  icy  mountain  water  washing  away  the  earth  in 
pans  or  baskets.  They  were  chilled  to  the  bone  by 
the  low  temperature  of  the  stream  swirling  about 
them  almost  waist-deep,  but  upon  their  heads  blazed 
a  burning  sun.  Many  a  strong  man  had  succumbed 
to  the  exhaustion  of  this  trying  labor,  and  it  was  as- 
suredly no  work  for  women. 

"I  suppose  I  needn't  expect  to  find  a  fortune  by 
magic,"  Di  thought  ruefully.  "I  had  my  chance  at 
the  Wishing  Well.  Of  course  Fm  not  sorry  for  what 
I  did.  Papa  would  have  wanted  me  to  help  little 
Timmy;  but  oh,  I  wish  I  had  another  wish!" 

In  the  distance  Sam's  cheerful  whistling  became 
audible  and  she  quickened  her  pace.  The  boy  was 
a  very  good  cure  for  blues. 

"Well,  what  luck  today,  Sam?"  she  asked  as  she 
came  up  to  him. 

"Oh,  I've  done  pretty  well,"  he  answered  with  a 
grin.  "I  found  a  real  big  chispa  that  must  weigh 
nearly  an  ounce  I  should  say."  He  stepped  out  of 
the  water  and  opened  his  little  buckskin  sack  for 
her  inspection.  "See,  Di.  There's  a  bit  of  quartz 
sticking  to  it,  and  anyhow  I  can't  tell  exactly  what 
it'll  come  to  till  I  get  Dad's  scales." 

"But  it  isn't  a  fortune,  Sam,"  Di  told  him,  still 


Yerber  Speaks  Out  249 

under  the  influence  of  her  depressing  thoughts.  "And 
I  don't  understand  it.  I  got  my  wish  and  you  should 
have  gotten  yours  by  this  time.  I've  been  expecting 
you  to  make  a  big  strike  any  day  for  weeks." 

*Tou  don't  know  what  I  wished,"  Sam  chuckled. 
"And  I'm  not  going  to  tell  you,  that's  sure.  I  don't 
mean  to  spoil  it  all." 

"That's  right,"  Di  agreed.  "Don't  tell  me.  At 
least  not  till  you  get  it."  Then,  with  a  sudden  change 
of  subject.    "You'll  never  guess  who  I  saw  just  now." 

"I  know,"  said  Sam.  "I  saw  them  too  and  there 
was  like  to  be  a  riot,  because  Ruth  and  Clara  Bell 
had  saved  up  Seraphy's  velvet  contraption  and 
Melinda's  bunnet  that  they  throwed  away  and  was 
wearin'  them  to  show  off.  Seraphy  wasn't  remem- 
berin'  that  findin's  was  keepin's,  the  way  she  once 
said  it  was.  But  all  the  girls  looked  wonderful 
grand,  wearin'  wide  hoopskirts  and  spit  curls  I  I 
tell  you  they  was  stylish." 

"Have  they  come  here  to  live?"  asked  Di  aston- 
ished.    "I  thought  they  were  going  to  Dutch  Flat." 

"They  did  go  there,  but  Mr.  Tupper  only  made 
fair  wages.  Not  what  he'd  come  to  Californy  for 
at  all.  So  they've  been  prospectin'  here  and  there 
on  their  way  to  the  Bay,  where  they're  going  to 
spend  the  rainy  season.  'Course,  if  Tupper  made 
a  big  strike  anywhere,  he'd  stay  with  it  and  the 
women  folk  could  go  to  San  Francisco  alone,  but  I 
don't  think  he's  likely  to." 

"Why  not?"  Di  asked. 


250  Diantha's  Quest 

"He's  too  impatient,"  Sam  said.  "There's  good 
claims  that  take  developin'.  Now  that  tunnel  of 
Dad's  up  the  hillside  a  ways  is  just  beginning  to  pay. 
Tupper  turns  *his  nose  up  at  that.  And  when  I 
showed  him  my  chispa  he  told  me  he'd  found  lots 
of  bigger  ones — that  he  was  lookin'  for«a  real  strike. 
He  don't  think  much  of  the  prospects  hereabouts,  so 
they're  goin'  right  on." 

"He  must  expect  gold  cobble-stones,"  said  Di. 
"I'd  like  to  have  seen  them  all  though.  The  girls 
are  awfully  good-hearted." 

"Who  did  you  meet  up  with,  if  it  wasn't  them?" 
Sam  asked.  He  had  begun  to  work  again,  but 
stopped,  astonished  at  Di's  answer. 

"Yerber,  of  the  BidwelFs  Bar  Express.  You  re- 
member? Will  they  do  anything  to  him,  do  you 
think,  for  burning  the  grass  on  the  prairie?" 

"Not  now,"  the  boy  returned.  "He's  safe  enough. 
Probably  no  one  here  knows  about  it  except  us.  It's 
only  when  they  catch  a  man  red-handed  that  it  goes 
hard  with  him." 

"He  didn't  seem  especially  pleased  to  see  us,"  Di 
said.  "At  least  I  don't  know  what  he  thought.  He 
doesn't  let  you  know  if  he  can  help  it;  but,  Sam,  I'm 
sure  he  could  tell  us  about  father  if  he  wanted  to." 

"Why  shouldn't  he  then?"  Sam  demanded,  not 
unnaturally.    He  was  at  work  again  while  he  talked. 

"I  can't  think  why,  but  I'm  sure,"  Di  insisted. 

"Well,"  Sam  grunted  over  his  pan,  "it  does  seem 
to  me  that  he  would  say  something.     I  didn't  ever 


Yerber  Speaks  Out  251 

cotton  to  the  man  and  Dad  didn't  like  him  neither; 
but  there  wasn't  anything  against  him,  ever  I  heard 
of,  except  settin'  that  grass  a-fire." 

"That  was  bad  enough!"  Di  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  but  we  never  was  sure  it  was  Yerber  him- 
self, though  we  suspicioned  him,"  Sam  returned.  He 
was  trying  to  be  fair. 

"You're  just  like  mother !"  Di  burst  out.  "Every- 
thing has  to  be  down  in  black  and  white,  or  you 
don't  believe  it.  I'm  just  as  certain  that  Yerber 
knows  something  about  my  father  as  I  am  that  the 
sun  is  shining." 

Sam  came -out  of  the  water  again,  looking  disap- 
pointedly at«the  pin  point  specks  of  gold  in  his  pan. 

"The  sun's  shinin'  all  right,"  he  muttered.  "My 
feet  are  so  cold  I  can't  feel  'em  and  my  head's  so 
hot  my  brains  are  boilin'.  I  guess  I'm  like  a  pail  of 
ice-cream  at  a  picnic." 

Di  laughed.  Sam  was  pretty  sure  to  put  her  In  a 
good  humor  sooner  or  later,  and  she  turned  more 
cheerfully  to  go  back  to  their  forlorn  home. 

"Anyway,  I  wish  you'd  keep  on  thinking  about 
Yerber,"  she  said  at  parting.  "I  can't  -imagine  any 
plausible  reason  why  he  shouldn't  tell  us,  but  I'm 
sure  he  has  one." 

"Thinkin'  ain't  my  strong  point,  but  I'll  do  the 
best  I  can,"  Sam  promised. 

"All  right,  do  I  Now  I  must  go  help  mama  with 
supper,"  and  Di  ran  down  the  hill. 

That  same  evening  when  they  were  alone  and  all 


252  Diantha's  Quest 

traces  of  the  evening  meal  had  been  removed,  Mrs. 
Carter  called  Di   to  her  side. 

"Sit  down,  dear,'*  she  said  gently.  "We  must 
have  a  little  talk  together.  I'm  afraid  Vm  more 
discouraged'about  finding  your  father  than  I  was  on 
the  trail." 

"I  know,'*  Di  confessed,  "but  I  think  I  know  the 
reason  for  it.  On  the  trail  it  seemed  that  all  we 
had  to  do  was  to  get  to  California  when,  hey  presto, 
papa  would  appear!  Now  that  we're  here,  we  find 
that  California  is  a  very  big  place.  But  .that  doesn't 
mean-that  we  won't  find  him  sooner  or  later." 

Mrs.  Carter  shook  her  head  doubtfully. 

"I  heard  today  from  the  Express  Company.  They 
have  been  unable  to  deliver  our  letters  to  your 
father." 

"Oh  I"  Di  exclaimed,  her  face  paling  as  the  signi- 
ficance of  this  news  made  itself  felt.  "Did  they 
say  why  they  couldn't?" 

"He  wasn't  to  be  found,"  Mrs.  Carter  replied. 
"There  is  no  one  at  the  Buenos  Aguas  Rancho  who 
understands  English,  but  the  messenger  talks  Span- 
ish. He  reports  that  the  peons  on  the  estate  told 
him  that  their  master  had  gone  home,  which  means 
Spain,  I  suppose." 

"But  surely  they  knew  of  father,"  Di  insisted. 

"They  said  that  Captain  Carter  was  no  longer 
there,"  her  mother  continued.  "There  seems  to  be 
no  doubt  of  that,  for  the  agent  of  the  company  made 
every  effort  to  find  him." 


Yerber  Speaks  Out  253 

"Then  we  shall  have  to  find  him  ourselves  !'*  Di 
cried.  She  was  not  going  to  let  this  discouragement 
break  her  faith,  but  she  felt  the  need  of  fighting  for 
it.  **If  we  go  there  ourselves  Fm  sure  we  can  learn 
about  father." 

"But  the  money?"  Mrs.  Carter  reminded  the 
girl. 

"We  must  save  and  save  till  we  have  enough!" 
Di  declared.     "There's  nothing  else  to  do." 

"Yes,  there  is,"  her  mother  replied,  "and  I  have 
been  thinking  over  it  very  seriously.  We  can  go 
back  home.  Remember  it  is  there  your  father  would 
expect  to  find  us,  and  lately  I  have  felt  that  I  made 
a  mistake  to  bring  you  out  here." 

"Oh,  don't  let's  do  that,  mama,"  Di  begged,  and 
there  was  real  distress  in  her  voice  as  she  spoke. 
"Beside,  we  would  need  money  to  take  us  east.  Much 
more  than  we  have." 

"A  friend  hasoffered  to  provide  the  money,"  Mrs. 
Carter  half-whispered. 

"A  friend?"  echoed  Di.  Except  Sam  and  his 
father,  who  could  not  afford  to  do  what  her  mother 
suggested,  Di  knew  of  no  one  in  the  camp  to  whom 
this  title  could  be  properly  applied. 

"His  offer  was  friendly,"  Mrs.  Carter  went  on  to 
explain,  "and  I  am  tempted  to  take  it." 

"But  we  donlt  know  anybody  who  is  rich  enough," 
Di  replied,  puzzled. 

"The  suggestion  was  that  the  whole  camp  would 


254  Diantha's  Quest 

contribute  if  the  word  was  given,"  Mrs.  Carter  ex- 
plained. 

"Charity  I"  Di  burst  out.  "Charity  that  we  could 
never  hope  to  repay  as  we  might  a  loan  from  one 
person!     Vd  rather  die  right  here  than  accept  it!" 

"I  expected  you  to  say  that,"  the  other  admitted, 
"but  I  am  not  sure  you  are  right.  Sometimes  it  may 
be  a  duty  to  accept  an  affront  to  your  pride — " 

"Would  you  do  it  for  yourself?"  Di  demanded 
suddenly  and  Mrs.  Carter,  taken  off  her  guard  for 
an  instant,  flushed. 

"Never!"  she  cried,  and  then,  with  a  catch  in  her 
voice,  "but  Di  dear,  Fm  not  thinking  of  myself." 

"I  know  you're  not,"  Di  exclaimed,  throwing  her 
arms  about  her  mother.  "You  wouldn't  dream  of  it 
if  it  wasn't  for  me ;  but  oh,  mama  darling,  let's  fight 
it  out  ourselves.  Something  will  happen  soon,  I'm 
sure." 

The  appeal,  coming  straight  from  Di's  heart  could 
hardly  be  withstood.  Mrs.  Carter  had  to  choose  be- 
tween the  anxiety  she  felt  for  her  brave  daughter's 
future  and  her  own  inclination  to  struggle  on,  and 
in  the  end  the  girl  had  her  way.  If  worse  came  to 
worst  she  might,  for  Di's  sake,  appeal  to  her  hus- 
band's family  in  Virginia,  and  the  more  she  con- 
sidered it  the  more  satisfied  she  became  that  if  her 
pride  must  be  humbled  this  was  the  better  way. 

"Who  suggested  this  collection,  mama?"  Di 
asked,  after  a  time.     "Was  it  that  Yerber  man?" 

"Yes,"  Mrs.  Carter  admitted.    "When  you  went 


Yerber  Speaks  Out  255 

out  this  afternoon  he  proposed  finding  the  money 
for  us.  I  confess  I  don't  like  the  man  any  more  than 
you  do,  my  dear  but  he  seemed  entirely  friendly — .'' 

"He's  nothing  of  the  sort!"  Di  interrupted  vio- 
lently. "He  wants  to  get  rid  of  us.  He's  afraid  of 
us  for  some  reason.  After  all,  perhaps  he  did  steal 
father's  gloves — " 

"Diantha,"  Mrs.  Carter  cut  in  sharply,  "you 
must  not  make  such  accusations  under  any  circum- 
stances. Stealing,  as  you  well  know,  is  punished  by 
hanging  in  these  mining  camps,  and  you  have  noth- 
ing to  go  on  but  a  vague  suspicion  of  this  man,  who 
has  never  done  anything  to  warrant  it." 

"You  were  suspicious  of  him  yourself  at  St.  Jo. 
You  know  you  were,  mama,"  Di  insisted. 

"I  had  no  reason  to  be,"  Mrs.  Carter  confessed. 
"Just  because  he  would  not  take  us  in  !iis  outfit  is 
no  reason  why  he  shouldbe  accused  of  a  crime.  No, 
my  dear,  you  must  try  to  overcome  your  animosity. 
It  may  lead  to  serious  trouble." 

A  slight  noise  at  the  door  drew  their  attention  in 
that  direction  and  there  stood  the  man  of  whom  they 
had  been  talking. 

"Well,  ma'am,"  he  called  genially,  "I  thought  I'd 
drop  around  and  see  what  you  had  to  say  about  the 
offer  I  made  this  afternoon." 

"We  are  not  going  to  take  it,  Mr.  Yerber!"  Di 
burst  out.  "We  came  to  California  to  find  my 
father,  and  we  don't  mean  to  go  back  until  we  do!" 

Mrs.  Carter  expected  that  the  man  would  retort 


256  Diantha's  Quest 

disagreeably  at  this  answer  of  her  daughter's,  but 
in  this  she  was  mistaken.     Yerber  laughed. 

"The  little  miss  has  got  a  temper,  hasn't  she?'* 
he  cried,  stepping  into  the  room.  **Well,  I  guess  she 
ain't  the  only  one  who  can  speak.  What  do  you  say, 
ma'am?" 

*'We're  obliged  for  your  offer,  Mr.  Yerber,  but 
we  cannot  accept  it,"  Mrs.  Carter  replied  with 
dignity. 

Instantly  the  man's  mannci*  changed. 

"So  that's  it,"  he  said,  with  almost  a  snarl  in  his 
voice.  "You  think  you'll  stay  and  find  it  by  your- 
selves I" 

"We'll  try  to  find  Mr.  Carter,"  was  the  calm 
answer. 

Yerber,  evidently  much  disturbed  by  something, 
took  a  turn  or  two  about  the  room  and  seemed  to 
be  struggling  to  control  himself.  At  length  he 
pushed  a  chair  near  to  the  spot  where  Mrs.  Carter 
and  Di  were  sitting,  and  dropped  into  it  heavily. 

"I  guess  we'd  better  talk  straight,"  he  began.  "I've 
got  my  own  views  of  why  you  won't  go  east,  and  I'm 
ready  to  make  terms  with  you.  I  know  a  lot  more 
about  this  country  than  you  do.  I  can  see  it  through, 
and  you  can't  never  get  on  without  someone  to  help 
you.  You'll  need  a  mule  team,  and  you'll  need  the 
strength  of  a  man.  That  old  slave  of  yours  ain't  no 
ways  up  to  the  work  ahead  of  you.  Every  word  I'm 
sayin'  is  true,  ma'am,  and  you've  been  here  long 
enough  to  know  It.     I  might  be  mean  and  take  it 


Yerber  Speaks  Out  257 

all;  but,  seem'  that  you  have  the  location,  rm  will- 
ing to  split  with  you,  share  and  share  alike  even  if 
I  do  bear  all  the  expenses.  Come  now,  that's  gen- 
erous, ain't  it?"  He  looked  from  mother  to  daug'h- 
ter  expectantly,  but  for  an  instant  they  were  both  too 
astonished  to  speak. 

"There  ain't  many  who  would  treat  you  as  fair 
as  that,"  he  insisted.  "Come!  Let's  make  a  deal  of 
it.  I  swear  I'll  divide  everything  fair  and  square 
and  you  shan't  have  any  cause  to  complain.  Is  it  a 
go?" 

"Mr.  Yerber,"  said  Mrs.  Carter  positively,  "we 
do  not  know  what  you  are  talking  about." 

Yerber  looked  at  her  incredulously  then  he  smiled 
a  knowing  smile. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  "we'll  leave  it  like  that.  You 
don't  know  what  I'm  talking  about,  so  I'll  tell  you. 
I'm  a-talkin'  about  the  hidalgo's  treasure.  If  you 
take  me  in  as  a  pardner  I'll  guarantee  to  get  it  and 
turn  a  cool  half  of  it  over  to  you.     How's  that?" 

"The  hidalgo's  treasure!"  Mrs.  Carter  was  ut- 
terly bewildered.     "I  do  not  know  any  hidalgo." 

"To  be  sure  you  don't,"  Yerber  said  facetiously. 
"You  never  heard  tell  of  his  treasure 'either.  Well, 
I'll  tell  you  this  much  about  it  so  that  you'll  know 
/  know.  Hearing  that  the  American  troops  were 
likely  to  come  his  way,  he  rode  off  with  it  and  hid 
it.  It's  never  been  found  since  then,  and  if  you 
and  me  dig  it  up  it's  ours  with  no  one  to  say  a  word 
against  it.    Findin's  is  keepin's,  and  that's  good  law 


258  Diantha's  Quest 

before  any  alcalde  hereabouts.  Not  that  anyone 
need  know  about  it,  for  I  see  youVe  a  lady  that  can 
keep  your  mouth  shut  when  you  want  to." 

"What  kind  of  a  treasure  is  it?**  Di  asked 
thoughtfully. 

"Oh,  you  know,**  Yerber  said  in  an  off-hand  man- 
ner. "Just  what  those  old  Spaniards  always  have. 
Lots  of  plate,  if  there*s  nothing  but  chile  con  carne 
on  the  table ;  and  diamonds  and  emeralds  and  pearls, 
to  dress  out  their  silks  and  satins.** 

"But  we  know  nothing  of  such  a  treasure,**  Mrs. 
Carter  declared,  bewildered.  "How  should  we? 
We've  only  just  come  into  the  country.*' 

"You  mean  you  want  me  to  think  you  don*t  know,** 
Yerber  said.  "Well,  ma'am,  •there*s  no  use  trying 
to  set  me  off  the  trail  because  I  know  you  know.  But 
to  save  all  unpleasantness  and  to  make  sure  you're 
quite  satisfied,  here*s  one  more  offer.  1*11  give  you 
all  the  best  of  it.  You  shall  have  two-thirds  and 
ril  rest  content  with  a  third,  and  you*ll  never  hear 
a  word  of  complaint  out  of  me.  Now  what  have 
you  got  to  say?** 

"Just  what  I  said  before,**  Mrs.  Carter  replied. 
"It  is  all  I  can  say.  I  know  nothing  of  this  treasure. 
Absolutely  nothing!** 

"I  suppose  you*d  like  to  tell  me  it  doesn*t  exist,** 
said  Yerber  with  a  sneer.  "Well,  you  needn*t.  I've 
known  about  it  almost  since  it  was  planted.  I've 
always  meant  to  have  a  try  for  it,  and  now  I  warn 
you.     I've  given  you  a  chance  to  take  me  in  as  a 


Yerber  Speaks  Out  259 

friend.  You're  kind  of  proud  and  stuck-up  and  don't 
cotton  to  me,  or  perhaps  you  think  you  won't  have 
to  split  with  any  one.  It  makes  no  odds  to  me. 
I'm  out  to  get  that  treasure  and  if  you  won't  help 
me  I'll  go  it  alone.    How  will  that  suit  you,  eh?" 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Yerber,"  Di  said.  "Much  better 
than  having  you  for  a  partner.  But  there's  just 
one  question  I'd  like  to  ask  you.  Is  the  hidalgo 
you  speak  of  my  father's  friend  of  the  Buenos  Aguas 
Rancho?" 

Yerber  who  had  been  striding  nervously  up  and 
down  the  cabin  stopped  in  his  tracks  and  there  was 
an  instant's  silence  before  he  replied.  Then  he 
spoke  rather  elaborately. 

"I  disremember  exactly,"  he  said,  "but  it  seems  to 
me  that  you  asked  me  about  your  pa  once  before  and 
I  told  you  I  didn't  know  him.  I  don't  know  his 
friends  either,  and  you're  in  a  better  position  than 
I  am  to  say  which  rancho  the  hidalgo's  treasure 
came  from." 

Di  did  not  reply  to  this.  Her  question  had  been 
made  without  any  real  hope  of  an  answer  and  she 
had  gained  nothing  by  it. 

Mrs.  Carter,  anxious  to  end  a  profitless  interview 
and  to  control  the  animosities  Yerber  and  Di  always 
roused  in  each  other,  now  spoke  with  absolute 
finality. 

"I'm  sorry  Mr.  Yerber,  if  you  think  that  we're  de- 
ceiving you,"  she  said,  "but  I  assure  you  that  we 
know   absolutely  nothing  that  would  help   you  to 


260  Diantha's  Quest 

find  this  treasure  you  speak  of.  I  never  heard  of  it 
before  you  mentioned  it  this  evening.  There  is  no 
reason  for  you  to  share  it  with  me  if  you  can  find 
It.    I  wish  you  good  luck — and  good  evening!'* 

Yerber  realized  that  he  was  dismissed  and  moved 
toward  the  door.  Indeed  he  was  partly  convinced. 
He  believed  that  Mrs.  Carter  at  least  did  not  know 
of  the  treasure.  Surely  she  would  not  have  given 
up  all  claim  to  it  if  she  had. 

"How  about  you,  young  Miss?''  he  asked  on  the 
threshold.  "Do  you  say,  same  as  your  ma,  that  if  I 
find  it  you  have  no  claim  on  it?" 

But  Di  was  little  minded  to  send  him  away  satis- 
fied. 

"Dear  me,  no,"  she  said  innocently.  "You  said 
you  would  give  us  two-thirds,  didn't  you.  I  certainly 
will  hope  to  hold  you  to  your  promise,  Mr.  Yerber, 
if  you  recover  the  treasure  through  any  help  of  ours, 
direct  or  indirect." 

"I  thought  so!"  Yerber  snorted  as  he  pushed 
through  the  doorway.  "Well,  Miss,  I'll  have  it  in 
spite  of  you!" 

"Now  what  did  you  mean  by  that,  Di?"  Mrs. 
Carter  asked,  half  indignantly.  "You  make  a  point 
of  courting  that  man's  ill-will,  yet  you  don't  know 
anything  about  this  treasure,  do  you?" 

"Not  a  thing,  except  what  he  told  us,"  Di 
answered,  "but  I'm  sure  this  hidalgo  is  the  one  J. 
B.  Smith  wrote  you  about;  and  I'm  always  longing 
to  make  Yerber  betray  that  he  knew  papa." 


Yerber  Speaks  Out  261 

Mrs.  Carter  turned  away  rather  hopelessly. 

"Go  to  bed,  now,"  she  said  at  last,  "and  Di  dear, 
to  oblige  me,  do  not  excite  this  man's  enmity.  I 
think  he  might  be  dangerous." 

"Don't  worry,"  Di  urged.  "He's  a  coyote  not  a 
wolf.     He'd  run  if  you  said  *Boo'  to  him." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  her  mother  insisted. 
"At  any  rate  it  is  a  good  rule  in  life  to  make  as  few 
enemies  as  you  can.    Good  night,  my  dear." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A  TORN  MAP 

DI  WENT  to  bed  obediently,  but  not  to  sleep. 
She  kept  revolving  in  her  mind  Yerber's  curi- 
ous assumption  that  she  and  her  mother 
possessed  information  of  great  value  which  they 
were  concealing  from  him.  She  wondered  why  he 
should  think  that,  trying  to  remember  if  there  was 
anything  they  might  have  said  to  give  him  such  an 
idea.  That  he  was  convinced  they  had  a  clue  to 
some  hidden  treasure  there  could  be  no  doubt.  The 
man's  manner,  as  well  as  what  he  had  proposed,  con- 
firmed that  fact,  but  what  could  have  given  him  such 
an  impression?     Di  sought  vainly  for  an  answer. 

Yet  there  was  something  that  required  an  ex- 
planation. From  the  moment  they  had  first  come 
into  contact  with  Yerber  the  girl  had  sensed  a  cer- 
tain indescribable  antagonism  on  the  man's  part 
toward  them.  Her  demand  to  know  how  he  had 
come  to  have  her  father's  gloves  might  account  for 
it  in  a  measure,  but  that  by  no  means  solved  the 
mystery  of  his  latest  proposition. 

Mrs.  Carter  came  to  bed  and  was  soon  sound 
asleep.     Di  could  hear  her  regular  breathing  while 

262 


A  Torn  Map  263 

she  herself  tossed  and  turned  and  twisted  for  what 
seemed  to  her  hours.  At  length,  feeling  feverish 
and  thirsty  she  decided  to  get  herself  a  drink  of 
water  and,  with  every  precaution  to  avoid  waking 
her  mother,  she  slipped  out  of  bed.  The  night  had 
grown  chilly,  so  she  put  on  a  long  coat  and  pushed 
her  feet  into  Indian  moccasins  which  lay  beside  her 
bed.  Then,  on  tiptoe,  she  passed  under  the  blanket 
that  hung  in  the  doorway,  separating  their  sleeping 
place  from  the  main  room  of  the  shack. 

Instantly  she  became  aware  that  someone  was 
moving  cautiously  across  the  floor.  The  front  door 
stood  open  and,  against  the  faint  light  of  the  sky,  a 
dark  form  was  silhouetted  for  an  instant.  Although 
she  had  but  a  momentary  glance  at  the  outlined 
figure  she  was  certain  the  man  was  Yerber.  Her  first 
impulse  was  to  cry  out,  but  her  hands  went  to  her 
lips  instinctively  and,  pressing  back  against  the 
blanket,  she  held  her  breath  and  watched.  Here 
she  felt,  was  the  opportunity  to  discover  what  was 
in  the  man^s  mind.  She  remembered  suddenly  how 
their  wagon  had  been  searched  that  night  back  in 
St.  Jo,  an  outrage  which  she  had  attributed  to  Yer- 
ber*s  desire  to  obtain  the  gloves  he  had  given  up 
with  such  a  show  of  good  nature ;  but  his  visit,  this 
time,  had  nothing  to  do  with  gloves  she  was  cer- 
tain. It  concerned  the  treasure  of  which  he  had 
talked  that  evening,  and  the  girl  was  determined,  if 
she  could,  to  learn  what  he  was  after. 

She  had  not  long  to  wait.     Apparently  the  man 


264  Diantha's  Quest 

knew  his  ground,  for  without  hesitation  he  moved 
across  the  room  toward  the  blank  wall  In  the  rear, 
stepping  noiselessly  as  a  cat.  DI  chuckled  silently 
to  herself,  thinking  that  there  was  nothing  there 
that  the  Intruder  could  possibly  want,  when  a  slight 
rustling  sound  gave  her  the  key  to  his  motive  for  this 
night's  visitation. 

It  was  the  map  of  Fairy-land  he  was  hunting  for. 
Evidently  he  had  conceived  it  to  be  a  record  of  the 
locality  of  the  mysterious  treasure.  DI  considered 
this  notion  an  absurdity,  but  she  had  no  intention 
of  losing  her  precious  drawing.  Without  further 
thought  she  ran  toward  him. 

"You  can't  have  that,  Mr.  Yerber!"  she  cried, 
and  seized  his  arm. 

The  intruder  was  startled,  but  he  was  by  no  means 
caught.  Moreover  he  dared  not,  for  his  life,  be 
taken.  He  knew  well  enough  that  the  miners  would 
make  short  work  of  his  case  and  that  he  stood  in 
the  very  shadow  of  the  gallows.  And  meanwhile  the 
girl  was  calling  lustily  for  help,  as  she  grasped  the 
map  he  had  risked  so  much  to  secure. 

It  was  no  time  for  parleying.  The  man  turned 
quickly,  giving  DI  a  sharp  push,  and  there  was  a 
tearing  sound  as  the  girl  reeled  and  fell  against  the 
wall.    Then  he  fled  out  of  the  door  and  disappeared. 

DI,  her  hand  gripping  the  portion  of  the  map  she 
had  seized,  felt  herself  falling  and  then,  for  a  time 
her  senses  left  her.  When  she  came  to  herself  there 
was  a  light  in  the  room,  her  mother  was  bending 


IT  WAS  THE  MAP  OF  FAIRYLAND  HE  WAS  HUNTING  FOR 


A  Torn  Map  265 

over  her  and  she  saw  the  faces  of  Sam  and  Mr. 
Brand  looking  over  Mrs.  Carter's  shoulder.  She 
sat  up  quickly,  a  little  bewildered  for  a  moment,  then, 
remembering  what  had  happened,  sprang  to  her 
feet. 

"Catch  Yerber !"  she  cried.  "He's  stolen  the  map 
of  Fairy-land!"  She  started  toward  the  door  where 
a  group  of  miners  were  assembled,  but  Mrs.  Carter 
grasped  her  arm. 

"Di,"  her  mother  protested,  "you  can't  go.  You 
must  be  dreaming,  my  dear." 

"But  he  took  the  map,  mama,"  DI  insisted.  "Do 
catch  him.     I  saw  him  do  it." 

"How  did  you  know  who  It  was?"  her  mother 
demanded.  She  had  no  wish  to  see  a  tragedy  en- 
acted even  If  the  map  had  been  stolen,  and  she  was 
not  sure  of  that  as  yet. 

"I  don't  know  how,  but  I  knew  I"  Di  asserted  posi- 
tively.    "It  was  Yerber!" 

"How  could  you  tell  that?  It  was  too  dark  to 
see  his  face,  wasn't  It?"  Mrs.  Carter  argued.  She 
had  noted  that  at  Di's  first  words,  a  number  of  the 
men  outside  had  left,  and  it  was  easy  to  guess  their 
errand. 

"Of  course  I  couldn't  see  his  face,  but  I'm  per- 
fectly certain,"  Di  declared.  "He  wanted  the  map. 
He  thought  he  could  tell  from  it  where  that  treasure 
he  told  us  of  was  hidden.  That's  what  he  meant, 
mama,  when  he  was  talking  to  us  tonight." 

"Still,  that  does  not  prove  It  was  Yerber,"  Mrs. 


266  Diantha's  Quest 

Carter  maintained  stubbornly;  but  she  went  over  to 
the  wall,  and  made  certain  that  the  gayly  colored 
drawing  Di  prized  was  missing. 

"That  Yerber  done  fell  in  love  with  that  li'l  con- 
traption o'  Miss  Di's/'  Uncle  Toby  contributed  to 
the  argument  "He  was  powerful  interested  in  it 
when  I  was  a-layin*  the  table  tonight." 

But  Mrs.  Carter,  feeling  that  although  the  man 
might  be  a  thief  he  had  not  merited  death,  protested 
at  naming  him  without  absolute  evidence,  and  would 
have  minimized  his  offense.  So  they  were  still  argu- 
ing when  the  men  who  had  been  searching  the  camp 
returned  with  their  report. 

"We  can^t  find  Yerber,  high  or  low,"  said  one  of 
them,  speaking  to  Mrs.  Carter.  "But  don't  you 
worry,  ma'am.  This  camp  don't  mean  to  have  its 
ladies  lose  their  beauty  sleep,  and  when  we  catch 
Yerber  we  allows  he  won't  disturb  you  none  in  the 
future." 

"But  we  can't  be  sure  it  was  Mr.  Yerber,  even  if 
he  isn't  here,"  Mrs.  Carter  reiterated.  "My  daugh- 
ter cannot  be  positive  who  it  was  without -having  seen 
his  face." 

"Well,  ma'am,"  the  miner  answered,  "this  Yer- 
ber is  the  only  member  of  this  camp  who  was  here 
at  sundown  and  ain't  here  now.  We,  o'  course, 
understands  your  delicate  feelin's  and  we  calculate 
to  give  him  a  fair  and  impartial  trial.  All  we  have 
to  do  is  to  call  a  miners'  meeting.  After  that  he'll 
be  strung  up,  neat  and  proper.     We  don't  aim  to 


A  Torn  Map  267 

have  no  pilferin'  goin'  on  hereabouts,  and  I  guess 
we  know  how  to  stop  It." 

Nothing  Mrs.  Carter  could  say  altered  the  deci- 
sion of  the  miners.  Not  one  of  them  had  the  slight- 
est doubt  in  his  mind  as  to  who  was  guilty,  and  they 
cried  loudly  for  Yerber's  extermination.  A  number 
of  parties  were  out  on  the  various  trails  in  search 
of  him,  and  it  was  freely  predicted  that  he  would  be 
found  before  sunrise. 

One  after  another  the  indignant  men  disappeared 
until  Mr.  Brand  and  Sam  were  the  only  ones  who 
lingered. 

"The  boy  and  me  can  roll  up  in  our  blankets  and 
sleep  outside  the  door.  Mis'  Carter,"  Brand  pro- 
posed, "if  it  will  make  you  easier  in  your  mind."  But 
Mrs.  Carter  replied  that  this  was  unnecessary,  and, 
while  she  and  Mr.  Brand  argued  the  point,  Sam  and 
Di  talked  over  the  night's  events. 

"He  certainly  was  fooled,"  Di  insisted.  "He 
thought  the  Emerald  Mountains  were  real  emeralds, 
I  suppose." 

"Well,  I  dunno,"  Sam  remarked,  with  a  puzzled 
shake  of  his  head.  "Maybe  we're  the  ones  that  are 
fooled.  It  might  be  the  secret  map  of  a  buried 
treasure." 

"Sam,"  laughed  Di,  sceptically  "you're  right,  it 
might  be.  But  it  is  a  copy  of  the  old  map  in  Virginia. 
Father  has  told  me  about  it  hundreds  of  times  since 
I  was  so  high." 

"That's  all  right,"  Sam  agreed.     "I  guess  you 


268  Diantha's  Quest 

know  what  you're  talking  about;  but  why  was  that 
Indian  we  met  back  on  the  trail  so  talkative  when 
he  saw  it?  He  didn't  know  anything  about  Emerald 
Mountains,  I  guess.  And  it  ain't  the  first  try  Yer- 
ber's  had  for  it,  from  what  you  told  me." 

"You  mean  the  time  he  searched  our  wagon  back 
in  St.  Jo?"  Di  asked,  and  Sam  nodded.  "I  remem- 
bered that  myself  tonight,"  Di  went  on.  "When  you 
think  of  it,  a  man  wouldn't  risk  hanging  for  a  pair 
of  gloves,  would  he?" 

"No,  he  wouldn't,"  Sam  agreed,  "but  if  he  saw  a 
way  of  putting  his  hands  on  a  treasure — ^well,  that 
might  be  different." 

"But,  Sam,"  Di  said,  wrinkling  her  brow,  "how 
could  he  have  known  I  had  the  map  then?  It  was 
after  Uncle  Toby  had  caught  him  looking  at  it  to- 
day that  he  came  to  mama  and  me.  I  can  under- 
stand that." 

"  'Course  I  don't  know,"  Sam  admitted,  "I'm 
only  guessing;  but  I  think  there  is  a  treasure  map 
that  this  man's  heard  of.  Perhaps  your  father  had 
it  and  Yerber  knew  him,  so  he  searched  your  wagon 
for  it." 

Di's  eyes  widened  and  she  looked  at  Sam,  quite 
fascinated. 

"I  wonder  if  you're  right?"  she  drawled  specula- 
tively. "I  wonder  if  there  was  something  about 
that  map  I  didn't  understand?  If  so,  he^s  won!" 
She  held  up  the  carved  stick  upon  which  the  map 
had  been  rolled.    "This  is  all  I  have  left.    When  he 


A  Torn  Map  269 

took  It  from  the  wall  I  snatched  at  it  and  held  on, 
because  I  didn't  mean  him  to  escape  with  it.  I  held 
tight  too!  I  must  have,  for  when  he  threw  me 
aside  the  map  tore  off  the  thongs  that  held  it  to  the 
stick.  See !  There's  just  one  scrap  of  the  parch- 
ment left." 

The  two  regarded  the  torn  fragment  for  a  mo- 
ment in  silence  before  Sam  got  up  and  followed  his 
father  out. 

"Good-night,"  said  Mrs.  Carter,  "or  rather,  good- 
morning.  Do  go  home  and  get  what  sleep  you  can, 
and  please,  Mr.  Brand,  use  all  the  influence  you  have 
to  dissuade  the  men  from  following  Mr.  Yerber. 
What  he  took  was  just  a  toy,  of  no  value  Whatever. 
Don't  let's  waste  time  over  him.  It's  not  worth 
while." 

After  the  Brands  had  departed  Di  spoke  to  her 
mother  of  Sam's  conjectures. 

"It  may  be  after  all  that  the  map  was  valuable," 
she  said.  "It  would  explain  a  lot  of  queer  things  if 
it  was." 

"Di,  my  dear,"  her  mother  returned,  "if  some- 
one wrote  down  an  imaginary  location  and  painted 
it  pink,  blue  and  green,  with  a  little  yellow  thrown 
in  for  good  measure,  and  labeled  it  'the  pot  of  gold 
buried  by  the  fairies  at  the  foot  of  the  rainbow,'  you 
and  Sam  would  want  to  mount  Polka  Dots  and  be  off 
to  hunt  for  it  tomorrow.  You're  incurably  roman- 
tic. Are  you  quite  sure  the  Yerber  man  didn't  hurt 
you?    If  so,  be  off  with  you  to  bed." 


270  Diantha's  Quest 

"You  called  the  thief  Terber',  yourself,"  Di 
pointed  out,  "yet,  if  I  do,  you  won't  allow  it  for  a 
minute." 

"That's  strictly  entre  nous,''  Mrs.  Carter  ex- 
plained. "Even  if  the  man  is  a  petty  thief  I  don't 
think  he  has  earned  capital  punishment.  I  fancy 
he  will  be  punished  enough  if  he  goes  with  a  map 
of  an  imaginary  land  to  hunt  for  an*  imaginary 
treasure." 

"Yes,  but  suppose  he  finds  a  real  treasure?"  Di 
grumbled,  rubbing  her  sleepy  eyes  with  her  fists. 

"If  he  does,  it  won't  injure  us,"  Mrs.  Carter  said 
calmly.  "We're  not  likely  to  hear  of  it,  and  we  cer- 
tainly would  never  have  found  it  for  ourselves." 

"Mother,"  said  Di,  "I  wouldn't  be  as  reasonable 
as  you  are  for  the  world.  You're  a  darling  but  oh, 
dear,  you're  so  sensible!  I  can't  see  how  you  ever 
get  any  fun  out  of  things.     Good  night  1" 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SOURBALL    WALKS    IN 

THE  next  day  saw  Uncle  Toby  added  to  the  list 
of  Yerber's  implacable -enemies,  for  the  thief 
had  made  his  escape  on  Snowflake,  the  last 
and  most  petted  of  the  Angel  mules. 

"I  don't  keer  what  you  say,  li'l  Miss,"  the  old 
man  declared  obstinately,  "I  don't  hold  with  hangin' 
a  man  for  stealin'  a  boss,  but  when  he  takes  Miss 
Di's  little  contraption,  what  her  heart  was  set  on, 
and  my  white  mule,  what  was  just  like  one  of  the 
fambly,  I'm^a-goin'  to  he'p  pull  the  rope  if  they  catch 
him/' 

Yerber,  however,  was  not  caught,  and  as  the  rainy 
season  drew  near  and  neither  Sam  nor  his  father 
had  found  anything  that  remotely  resembled  a  for- 
tune, the  Brands  held  many  anxious  consultations  in 
their 'little  shack. 

"When  first  I  knew  DI,"  Sam  said  one  night,  pro- 
ducing *his  well-thumbed  guide  book,  "she  said  *a 
store  is  more«of  a  gold  mine  than  a  gold  mine  is,*  and 
she  proved  it  out  of  this  very  book,  where  it  was 
talking  about  fortunes  that  was  made  here.'' 

He  went  over  the  figures  that  had  seemed  so  elo- 
quent to  Di  for  his  father's  benefit. 

271 


272  Diantha's  Quest 

"Now  my  idea  Is  this,"  he  continued.  "WeVe 
got  Dots,  and  weVe  got  one  horse  left,  and  we 
know  what's  needed  in  the  mines.  Let's  go  down  to 
the  Bay  and  as  soon  as  the  wet  season  is  over  we'll 
stock  up  with  goods  and  pack  'em  in  to  camps  where 
fhey  will  'be  willing  to  give  high  prices  for  them." 

"Do  you  think  that  will  pay,  Sammy?"  Mr. 
Brand  asked  cautiously. 

"If  it  don't  we  can  try  our  luck  at  minin'  again," 
Sam  answered  sturdily.  "The  only  thing  is  who's 
going  to  take  care  of  Mis'  Carter  and  Di  if  we  go 
away?" 

"I'll  talk  things  over  with  Mis'  Carter,"  said 
Brand.  "She's  the  most  reasonable  lady  I  ever  saw. 
Perhaps  I  can  persuade  her  to  go  to  the  Bay  with 
us.  There'd  be  ten  chances  of  hearing  of  her  hus- 
band there  to  one  here,  and  she  must  have  a  little 
dust  put  by  now." 

"It  would  a-been  a  lot  easier  to  get  there  if  Yer- 
ber  ha?dn't  taken  her  last  mule,"  Sam  grumbled. 
"I  don't  just  see  how  we're  all  goin',  with  only  your 
old  horse  and  Dots." 

"Dots  sure  is  a  worthless  animal,"  Mr.  Brand 
averred,  but  Sam  would  not  rise  to  such  a  bait. 

"She's  just  the  best  pony  in  the  whole  of  Cali- 
forny!"  he  declared.  "And  I  .tell  you  what.  Dad,  I 
don't  see  why  I  can't  take  a  little  trip  around  the 
South  and  find  that  rancho  where  Mr.  Carter  was 
for  so  long,  while  you're  hunting  up  goods  at  the 
Bay." 


Soui^ball  Walks  In  273 

"What  good  would  that  do?"  Mr.  Brand  asked. 
"You  don't  speak  Spanish,  barrin'  a  word  here  and 
there  that  you  picked  up  from  some  of  the  greaser 
miners." 

"I  don't  care,"  said  Sam  stoutly.  "I'd  find  some- 
thing-out if  I  went  there.  For  instance,  a  gentleman 
like  Mr.  Carter  didn't  just  ride  away,  careless,  with- 
out leavin'  an  address.  You  can  be  quite  sure  some- 
one there  knew  where 'he  went.  Only  the  express 
agent,  not  having  a  personal  interest,  didn't  take  the 
trouble  to  locate  that  hombre." 

"It  sounds  like  you  might  be  right,"  Mr.  Brand 
acknowledged,  "though  two  or  three  times  I've 
wondered  if  perhaps  Mr.  Carter  wasn't  dead.  It's 
mighty  funny  for  a  man  to  disappear  this  way  in  a 
civilized  country." 

Not  long  after  this  conversation  Sam  found  Di  on 
a  grassy  bank  near  a  little  brook. 

"Why  aren't  you  working,  Sam?"  she  called,  his 
cheery  whistling  having  warned  her  of  his  approach. 

"My  claim's  petered  out!"  he  declared,  throwing 
himself  on  the  grass  beside  her.  "Got  about  thirty- 
four  cents  worth  yesterday  and  a  dollar  fifteen  the 
day  before, — and  I  worked -hard  "too." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?  Take  up  another 
claim?"  Di  asked.  This  news  was  not  unexpected. 
She  had  known  for  some  time  that  both  Sam  and 
his  father  had  reason  to  feel  discontented  with  their 
earnings. 

"Dad's  talking  to  your  mother  about  that  now," 


274  Diamtha's  Quest 

Sam  said,  then  interrupted  himself.  "Look,  Di,  if 
you  squint  along  the  grass  stems  you'll  see  a  rainbow 
over  the  spray  beside  the  brook.'' 

"I  know,"  Di  nodded.  "Before  you  came  I  was 
wondering  if  I  made  a  quick  snatch*that  way  whether 
I  mightn't  be  lucky  enough  to  knock  off  an  elf's 
cap,  so  that  it  would  have  to  give  me  a  wish  to  re- 
gain it." 

"You  might  try  it,"  suggested  Sam  idly. 

"Maybe  I  will,"  said  Di,  "but  not  yet.  They're 
just  beginning  to  be  visible,  dancing  in  the  sunlight. 
Their  clothing  is  more  delicate  than  butterflie«' 
wings.  I  think  it  is  silk  made  out  of  spiders'  webs 
and  dyed  with  the  juice  of  flowers.  They're  good 
little  fairies,  and  kind.  I  can  see  that  in  their  faces. 
If  I  could  only  tell  them  my  wish  without  scaring 
them  away  I'm  sure  they  would  give  iit  to  me." 

"Are  they  so  easily  scared?"  Sam  asked.  He 
liked  to  hear  Di  elaborate  on  her  fancies.  She  never 
failed  to  stir  his  imagination,  so  that  if  he  did  not 
see  all  she  talked  of  at  least  he  wished  he  could  and 
his  eyes  were  open  to  much  that  was  lovely  which 
otherwise  he  would  have  missed. 

"To  be  sure  they're  easily  frightened,"  Di  went 
on.  "They  love  to  be  admired  and  feel  real  for  a 
while.  So  many  people  hurt  their  poor  little  feel- 
ings by  refusing  to  believe  in  them,  you  know,  that 
when  they  see  a  strange  mortal  their  first  idea  is  to 
run  and  hide." 

"What  are  they  doing  now?"  Sam  asked. 


Sourball  Walks  In  275 

"See  for  yourself,"  returned  Di,  making  way  for 
him  to  look  along  the  tunnel  through  the  grass. 
"They're  dancing  in  the  sun  at  the  foot  of  the  rain- 
bow." 

As  she  spoke  she  scrambled  to  her  feet  and  ran  to 
the  brook  side. 

"Is  this  part  of  anyone's  claim?"  she  asked  ex- 
citedly. 

"No,"  said  Sam,  bewildered  by  the  sudden  change 
of  mood  and  subject.  "At  least,  Dad  and  I  located 
here  and  prospected  all  up  this  brook  when  first  we 
came.    We  didn't  find  enough  dust  to  pay  for  a — ." 

"We're  going  to  dig  here !"  Di  interrupted.  "I've 
always  heard  of  the  pot  of  gold  at  the  foot  of  the 
rainbow,  and  mother  was  making  fun  about  it  last 
night,  so  now  we're  going  to  find  it  and  show  her." 

When  she  wished  to,  Di  could  always  make  Sam 
do  as  she  commanded.  To  be  sure  he  had  had  his  fill 
of  mining,  but  if  Di  said  he  must  dig,  dig  he  would. 
He  only  asked  to  be  allowed  to  go  after  the  nec- 
essary tools,  which  Di  would  not  permit. 

"This  isn't  miner's  gold  we're  looking  for,"  she 
explained,  dragging  at  a  bush  as  she  spoke.  "This 
is  fairy  gold.  If  they  wish,  the  elves  can  put  it  right 
here  under  our  noses."  As  she  finished  speaking 
the  roots  came  out  of  the  ground  with  a  jerk  and 
she  went  over  backward. 

"Are  you  sure  you  aren't  hurt?"  asked  Sam  anxi- 
ously, when  she  picked  herself  up  laughing. 

"Not  a  bit,"  she  answered,  "and  very  lucky  that 


276  Diantha's  Quest 

I  landed  on  the  grass  instead  of  in  the  brook.  Oh, 
Sam,  look  I"  she  exclaimed,  pointing. 

In  the  hole  left  by  the  roots  of  the  bush  lay  a  nest 
of  nuggets ! 

"Here's  the  fortune  you  wished  for,"  she  said, 
quite  calmly.    "I  knew  you'd  find  it  sooner  or  later." 

"You  knew  Fd  find  it?"  cried  Sam.  "What  did  I 
have  to  do  with  finding  it?  It's  yours!  I  wouldn't 
touch  a  pin-point  of  it." 

"Very  well  then,"  said  Di,  "you  can  cover  it  all 
up  again.  I  can  see  the  stakes  of  your  location,  and 
you're  very  much  mistaken  if  you  think  I'm  going  to 
rob  you." 

She  picked  up  the  uprooted  bush,  put  it  back  on 
the  nuggets  and  turned  away,  her  head  held  very 
high. 

Never  perhaps  had  Sam  and  she  been  so  near  a 
real  quarrel;  but  the  boy  followed  her  and  plucked 
at  her  sleeve. 

"See  here,  Di,"  he  said  desperately,  "don't  be  so 
touchy.  It  isn't  that  I  don't  want  to  be  beholden  to 
you;  but  fair  is  fair!  You  need  money  worse  than 
I  do.  I've  put  by  a  lot,  even  if  it  isn't  an  everlastin' 
fortune  such  as  I  expected  at  first,  and  Dad  and  I 
are  planning  to  take  your  ma  and  you  with  us  to  the 
Bay.  Dad  reckons  you're  much  more  likely  to  find 
your  pa  from  there ;  but  money  will  be  needed  to  take 
you  there,  and  to  live.  This  strike  seems  to  me 
right  down  providential." 

"Of  course,"  said  Di,  "It's  my  fairy  god-mother. 


Sourball  Walks  In  277 

She  always  helps  me  out  when  I  really  need  her.  Al- 
right, Sam,  I'll  take  half  if  you  will." 

From  this  stand  nothing  would  move  her.  Claims 
along  the  brook  were  staked  out  in  her  name,  in  her 
mother's,  in  Uncle  Toby's  and  both  Brands.  Then 
the  public  were  let  into  the  secret  of  their  strike  and 
there  was  a  stampede  for  the  brook,  which  was 
soon  staked  for  its  entire  length. 

But  Di's  find  was  the  only  one  of  any  consequence. 
When  fully  opened  up  it  proved  to  contain  nearly 
ninety  pounds  of  gold,  in  nuggets  ranging  from  five 
ounces  down.  But  it  was  a  large  pocket  and  nothing 
more,  and  after  some  weeks  of  feverish  digging  all 
were  obliged  to  confess  as  much. 

"I  told  you  all  along  it  was  the  pot  of  gold  buried 
by  the  fairies  at  the  foot  of  the  rainbow,"  Di  re- 
minded Sam,  and  all  in  all  this  was  as  satisfactory 
an  explanation  as  was  made  of  their  discovery. 

However  it  established  both  families  in  an  easier 
financial  position,  and  Mrs.  Carter  was  delighted  to 
avail  herself  of  Mr.  Brand's  escort  to  the  coast. 

Once  there,  it  was  hard  to  restrain  Di's  impatience, 
but  it  was  determined  to  wait  till  the  end  of  the 
rainy  season,  which  had  now  begun,  before  trying 
to  seek  out  the  Buenos  Aguas  Rancho  under  Sam's 
escort. 

Their  first  impression  of  San  Francisco  Bay  was 
of  a  forest  of  masts.  Anchored  there  in  the  harbor 
were  four  hundred  vessels  of  every  description.  Some 
entirely  deserted,  most  of  them  without  crews,  but 


278  Diantha's  Quest 

with  their  captains  still  aboard  in  command  of  empty 
ships. 

The  town  itself  presented  almost  as  curious  an  ap- 
pearance. There  was  every  variety  of  habitation 
from  canvas  tents  and  knock-down  houses  to  sub- 
stantial dwellings.  And  these  were  inhabited  by 
every  variety  of  the  human  race.  Chilefios,  rubbed 
shoulders  with  East  Indians  and  Chinamen,  French- 
men with  Germans  or  Turks.  All  were  there  on  the 
same  errand.  All  expected  to  be  rich  beyond  the 
dreams  of  avarice.  Returned  miners  with  their  bags 
of  gold  and  little  scales  added  to  the  fever.  The 
hotels  were  usually  more  gambling  house  than  hotel. 
Altogether  it  was  the  last  town  in  the  world  that  Mrs 
Carter  would  have  selected  as  a  place  to  bring  up  her 
young  daughter.  But  there  they  were  and  there,  for 
the  time,  it  was  expedient  that  they  should  stay. 

However  prices  were  so  extravagant  that  if  they 
did  not  wish  their  new-found  fortune  to  melt  like 
sugar  in  water  it  was  necessary  to  arrange  some 
plan  of  existence,  and  finally  Mr.  Brand  bought  two 
knock-down  houses  which  he,  Sam  and  Uncle  Toby 
erected  side  by  side. 

The  ladies  had  the  larger  house,  which  was  also 
used  as  living  room  and  kitchen,  and  they  lived  there 
much  as  they  had  in  the  camp.  Water  was  a  luxury, 
but  during  the  rains  this  difficulty  was  not  so  press- 
ing. The  streets,  however,  were  well-nigh  impass- 
able. The  mud  seemed  bottomless  and  the  side- 
walks which  had  been  made  of  bales  of  Chilean 


Sourball  Walks  In  279 

flour,  tierces  of  tobacco,  cook-stoves  and  such  mer- 
chandise gradually  sank  deeper  and  deeper  into  the 
ooze. 

"Look  what  I  done  found,"  Uncle  Toby  remarked 
unemotionally  one  evening,  ushering  an  extraordin- 
ary figure  into  the  room  where  Sam  and  Di,  under 
Mrs.  Carter's  tutelage,  were  doing  lessons  in  the 
lamp  light. 

Mr.  Brand,  vastly  impressed  by  such  erudition, 
had  been  listening  to  what  was  going  on  under  pre- 
tense of  reading  an  old  Philadelphia  newspaper, 
which  he  had  bought  for  two  dollars  from  a  man 
who  had  used  it  for  packing.  At  Uncle  Toby's 
words  he  looked  up  sharply. 

"A  Dutch  Charley!"  he  exclaimed,  not  recogniz- 
ing the  new  comer. 

Nearly  every  large  camp  had  one  character  such 
as  now  stood  before  them.  If  there  happened  to 
be  two  in  the  same  camp  they  were  deadly  rivals. 
And  all  of  them  were  known  as  **Dutch  Charley." 

Over  a  broad  white  waistcoat,  covering  a  com- 
fortable protuberance,  hung  no  less  than  four  gold 
watch  chains.  Looped  over  his  neck  and  shoulders 
and  around  his  waist  hung  long  festoons  of  nuggets 
linked  together  with  copper  wire.  The  very  buttons 
on  his  coat  and  the  studs  in  his  shirt  were  of  gold. 
In  such  a  corpulent  and  opulent  figure  it  took  Di's 
quick  eye  to  discover  their  gaunt  old  friend  Sour- 
ball. 


280  Diantha's  Quest 

"It's  Mr.  Ball,"  she  cried.  "I  mean  Mr.  Deitz, 
mama." 

"I  done  foun'  him,"  Uncle  Toby  remarked  pessi- 
mistically, "with  one  leg  down  a  stove-hole,  a-yell- 
in'  as  if  he  was  killed." 

"I  thought  I  was,"  Sourball  declared.  "It  isn't 
my  idea  of  a  joke  to  throw  away  all  the  stove-lids 
out  of  the  sidewalk  on  a  night  as  black  as  this.  I 
made  sure  I'd  broken  my  leg." 

"What  I  want  to  know,"  said  Uncle  Toby  severely 
"and  that's  the  reason  I  brung  him  here,  is  what  he's 
done  with  my  little  mule?  It  wasn't  the  best  little 
mule  I  had,  but  it  was  a  lot  better  than  no  little  mule 
at  all." 

"Come  in  and  sit  down,  Mr.  Deitz,"  Mrs.  Carter 
said,  hospitably,  "and  tell  us  all  about  yourself.  We 
don't  need  to  ask  if  you've  prospered.  We  can  see 
that  for  ourselves." 

"I  suppose  that  machine  of  yours  was  a  grand 
success,"  Mr.  Brand  suggested. 

"Mind  you,"  Sourball,  said  ponderously,  as  he 
took  the  indicated  chair,  "I'm  not  prepared  to  say 
that  the  principle  of  that  machine  was  wrong.  No 
sir !  I  do  not  go  as  far  as  that  and  sometime  when  I 
have  leisure,  I  intend  to  devote  myself  to  perfect- 
ing it ;  but  for  the  present  I  employ  Indians  to  de- 
velop my  claim  and  their  methods  are  primitive, 
very  primitive." 

"Where  you  done  got  my  little  mule?"  Uncle 
Toby  murmured.    "That's  all  I'm  askin'  you." 


Soufball  Walks  In  281 

At  his  words  Sourball  turned  upon  him  with  an 
impressive  clashing  of  chains. 

"I  have  all  three  of  your  mules  safely  stabled  here 
in  town/'  he  said.  *'Do  you  want  them  tonight? 
Or  can  you  wait  until  morning?  Remember  the 
stove  lids  are  off/*  he  added  in  warning. 

*Tou  have  all  three  of  our  mules!"  cried  Di, 
who  had  been  silent  unbearably  long  for  her  and 
was  fairly  bubbling  over  with  questions.  "For  good- 
ness sake,  how  did  you  get  them?" 

"I  met  the  Cronins  at  Sutter's,"  Sourball  explained 
in  a  matter-of-fact  tone.  "Cronin  is  employed  there 
as  a  teamster.  They  missed  you  by  no  more  than 
a  day  or  two,  it  seems.  I  came  on  a  little  later  and 
told  them  I  was  on  my  way  here  to  find  you  and 
return  your  mule,  and  they  asked  me  to  bring  the 
one  they  had  along.  Cronin  will  be  glad  to  buy  it 
if  you  want  to  sell." 

"Sell  my  little  mule !"  Uncle  Toby  snorted  indig- 
nantly, sotto  voce. 

"How  is  the  Cronin  baby?"  Mrs.  Carter  asked. 

"It's  thriving,"  Sourball  declared.  "It's  mother 
says  It  will  beat  them  all  in  a  year  or  two." 

"But  where  did  you  get  the  third  mule?"  Brand 
inquired.     "That's  the  thing  that's  puzzling  me." 

"I  won  it,"  Sourball  said,  a  trifle  shamefacedly, 
"playing  cards,  if  you  must  know,  though  I'd  not  like 
you  to  think  I'm  a  gambler,  Mrs.  Carter.  I  look 
on  it  as  a  vice;  but  I  came  down  from  Sutter's  by 
way  of  Sonoma  and  Bodega,  and  at  Bodega  I  met 


282  Diantha's  Quest 

a  man  named  Yerber.  You  probably  never  ran 
across  him,  but  he  was  captain  of  a  fast  train  called 
the  BidwelFs  Bar  Express  that  I  trailed  along  with 
for  a  few  days." 

"We  know  him,"  Mrs.  Carter  murmured. 

"When  I  got  into  Bodega  the  two  mules  began  to 
whicker  and  bray,  and  another  mule  answered  them. 
I  went  and  looked  it  over,  and  it  didn't  take  me  long 
to  make  sure  that  it  was  your  lead  mule.  So  I  natur- 
ally expected  Vd  find  you  there.  But  there  was  only 
this  man  Yerber,  who  claimed  that  the  mule  was 
his.  He  said  he'd  won  it  in  a  game  with  some  Mexi- 
cans, and  perhaps  he  had;  but  if  so  it  was  the  only 
thing  he  had  won,  for  he  was  cleaned  out  complete- 
ly." Deitz  stopped  and  looked  around  for  con- 
firmation or  denial  of  Yerber's  statements. 

"Go  on,"  Mrs.  Carter  urged.  "Your  story  is 
very  interesting." 

"It  seemed  to  me,"  Sourball  resumed,  "that  it 
would  go  farther  to  show  my  gratitude  than  any- 
thing else  I  could  think  of,  if  I  could  bring  in  your 
whole  team  and  give  them  back  to  you  in  good  condi- 
tion; but  do  you  know  that  man  wouldn't  sell?  not 
for  any  price !  However,  he  was  a  crazy  gambler. 
I  told  him  I  was  no  card-player,  and  after  that  he 
simply  wouldn't  let  me  alone.  He  came  to  me  that 
night  when  I'd  actually  gone  to  bed.  *You  want 
that  mule  ?'  he  said.  Well,  get  up  and  I'll  play  you 
for  it !'  And  in  the  end  I  played  with  him  and  won." 
Deitz  paused  to  consider  the  effect  of  this  on  the  in- 


Sourball  Walks  In  283 

terested  faces  gathered  around  him.  Then  he  re- 
sumed, fumbling  in  his  pocket.  "The  man  told  me 
he  had  a  secret  map  of  a  great  treasure.  ^IVe  tried 
for  it  and  I  can't  locate  it/  he  said.  *There  was  a 
piece  torn  off  the  map  that  must  have  had  the  points 
of  the  compass  on  it,  but  Til  play  you  for  it  and  per- 
haps you'll  make  out  better  than  I  have.'  So  I 
played  him  and  I  won  this,  too.  It  was  what  they 
call  ^beginner's  luck'  I  suppose."  He  threw  down 
on  the  table  before  them  the  torn  map  of  Fairy-land. 
"It's  a  curious  thing,"  he  continued,  "but  I  can't 
make  head  or  tail  of  it." 

It  did  not  take  long  to  put  Sourball  in  possession 
of  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  his  pleasure  in  Di's  de- 
light at  the  return  of  her  plaything  was  almost  pathe- 
tic. It  was  evident  that  he  had  a  genuine  regard 
for  the  Carters,  who  had  befriended  him  in  his  need, 
and  when  he  rose  to  go  neither  his  grotesque  finery 
nor  his  new-found  pomposity  concealed  the  real 
friendliness  he  felt  for  them. 

Promising  to  come  again  next  day  and  restore 
his  beloved  mules  to  Uncle  Toby,  he  took  his  leave ; 
but  paused  in  the  doorway  to  speak  to  Mr.  Brand. 

"You  said  the  second  street  to  the  left  had  side- 
walks made  of  cases  of  goods?"  he  asked.  "Maybe 
you  wouldn't  mind  setting  me  on  the  right  road?  I 
don't  want  to  break  my  other  leg  in  a  stove-hole." 

"Sammy  will  go  with  you,"  Mr.  Brand  said  lazily. 
He  wanted  to  talk  Deitz  and  his  big  strike  over  with 


284  Diantha's  Quest 

the  ladles ;  so  Sam,  feeling  rather  ill-used,  set  out  to 
act  as  SourbalFs  guide. 

However  he  was  to  be  rewarded,  for  the  door  had 
hardly  closed  behind  them  before  Deitz  laid  a  hand 
on  the  boy's  arm  and  led  him  out  of  possible  earshot. 

"I  wanted  to  ask  your  father;  but,  if  you  can't  tell 
me,  you  can  ask  him  for  me.  Do  you  think  Mrs. 
Carter  and  her  daughter  would  be  pleased  if  Cap- 
tain Carter  found  them?" 

Sourbairs  question  left  Sam  gasping. 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  he  demanded, 
half  indignantly.  "How  do  you  mean  *found  them'  ? 
It's  them  that's  lookin'  for  him." 

"I  wonder,^*  Deitz  remarked  knowingly,  putting  a 
finger  beside  his  nose  and  tapping  his  cheek  reflec- 
tively. "I  should  say  they  were  running  away  from 
him.  Anyway  I  thought  I'd  find  out,  and  if  Mr. 
Carter's  presence  isn't  agreeable  to  the  ladies,  why 
they  could  take  a  ship  to  Panama  without  his  ever 
knowing.  I've  plenty  of  gold!  Plenty!"  He  jingled 
his  chains  to  emphasize  his  meaning. 

"See  here,"  cried  Sam,  now  so  utterly  bewildered 
that  he  reverted  to  his  earlier  belief  that  Sourball 
was  crazy.  "The  ladies  ain't  runnin'  away  from 
nothin'  nor  nobody.  Mr.  Carter  was  here  in  Cali- 
forny,  and  so  they  came  too." 

"Now  that's  where  you're  all  wrong.  Mr.  Carter 
wasn't  in  California,"  Deitz  asserted  positively.  "He 
was  in  the  east.  He  told  me  so  himself,  so  it's  plain 
they  were  running  away  from  him.     He  followed 


SouAall  Walks  In  285 

along,  but  lost  track  of  them  away  back,  and  what 
I  want  to  know  is,  do  I  tell  him  where  they  are,  or 
don't  I?'' 

Sam  snorted  indignantly. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  you  know  where  Mr.  Car- 
ter IS  and  didn't  tell  'em?"  he  questioned  explosively. 

"Sure  I  didn't,"  Deitz  replied  blandly.  "I  owe 
Mrs.  Carter  and  her  daughter  a  heap  more  than  I 
can  ever  pay  them.  I'm  grateful  to  those  ladies, 
and  you  don't  catch  me  handing  them  over  a  hus- 
band they  don't  want." 

"But  they  do  want  him!"  Sam  burst  out.  **Here, 
you  turn  around  and  go  back  with  me.  You'll  find 
out  quick  enough  whether  they  want  him  or  not. 
They'll  be  wild  with  joy.  At  least  Di  will.  Mis' 
Carter  I  guess  will  be  mighty  glad,  too,  only  she 
won't  make  so  much  fuss  about  it.  You  come  on." 
In  his  excitement  Sam  had  grasped  Deitz  by  the 
arm  and  whirled  him  around  in  his  tracks. 

"Hold  on,  sonny,"  Deitz  protested,  holding 
back.  "Don't  you  be  in  such  a  hurry.  You  think 
you  know  all  about  it,  but  do  you?  How  can  you 
account  for  them  traveling  out  here  when  he  wrote 
them  specially  that  he  was  going  east  to  see  them? 
Let's  hear  you  explain  that." 

"It  don't  make  any  difference  whether  I  can  ex- 
plain it  or  not,"  Sam  insisted,  again  grasping  the 
man's  arm  and  trying  to  pull  him  toward  the  house. 
"I  know  that  the  Carters  are  looking  for  Mr.  Carter 


286  Diantha's  Quest 

every  way  they  can  think  of.  You  tell  me  where  he 
is.     I'll  do  the  rest." 

"Well,"  Deitz  said  thoughtfully,  "I  know  where 
he  was  yesterday,  but  I  can't  be  sure  he's  in  the  same 
place  today.  He  was  planning  to  strike  out  for 
some  rancho  down  south  a  ways." 

"Then  we  must  stop  him!"  Sam  cried  excitedly. 
He  was  appalled  at  the  thought  that  Mr.  Carter 
might  disappear  again.  It  seemed  that  if  such  a 
thing  happened  they  might  never  be  able  to  find  him. 

"So-o !  But  if  it's  just  the  same  to  you,  I'd  rather 
talk  it  over  with  your  father  before  I  do  anything," 
Deitz  was  still  unconvinced.  "I'm  mighty  grateful 
to  Mrs.  Carter,  and — ." 

"We'll  get  Dad  at  once,"  Sam  interrupted.  While 
there  was  a  possibility  that  Mr.  Carter  had  left  town 
it  might  be  better  not  to  say  anything  to  the  ladies 
until  his  whereabouts  were  ascertained.  If  indeed 
he  had  gone  Sam  meant  to  mount  Polka  Dots  at 
sun-up  and  ride  after  him,  but  meanwhile  he  would 
be  glad  of  his  father's  advice.  "You  go  into  our 
bunk  house  and  wait,"  he  went  on,  giving  Mr.  Deitz 
a  push  in  that  direction  as  he  hurried  away. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

SAM*S  WISH   COMES  TRUE 

DI  WAS  awakened  next  morning  by  the  sound 
of  whistling.  She  opened  her  eyes  to  find 
the  sun  shining  brightly.  It  was  a  jewel  of 
a  day  such  as  once  in  a  while  glorifies  the  wet  season 
in  California. 

"No  one  but  Sam  could  whistle  like  that/*  she 
thought  sleepily,  and  then  began  to  wonder  if  the 
boy  might  not  be  able  to  make  money  out  of  this 
gift  of  his.  There  was  a  wandering  fiddler  named 
John  Kelly  who  was  reported  to  earn  more  gold  dust 
playing  for  the  miners  than  most  of  those  who  paid 
him  ever  made.  But  suddenly  the  girl  caught  a  new 
note  in  Sam's  music  that  made  her  sit  up,  broad 
awake.  Surely  he  was  calling  to  her!  His  tune 
seemed  to  cry,  "Hurry!  Hurry!  Hurry!''  And  in  a 
jiffy  she  was  out  of  bed  and  dressing  hastily. 

"What  is  it,  Sam?"  she  asked,  the  moment  she 
put  her  curly  head  out  of  doors.  "Do  stop  that 
noise.    You'll  wake  mama." 

"It's  time  she  was  awake !"  Sam  declared  reckless- 
ly, letting  out  another  piercing  note.  "Everybody 
ought  to  be  up  on  such  a  wonderful  morning  as  this," 

287 


288  Diantha's  Quest 

"Sam  Brand,  what  has  gotten  into  you?"  Di 
questioned  in  amazement.  "Has  Mr.  Deitz  given 
you  a  share  in  a  new  strike?'* 

"Better  than  that,''  Sam  announced.  "I've  got  my 
wish,  Di !  I've  got  my  wish !  It  was  a  little  slow 
in  coming  but  it  is  here  at  last." 

"That  mysterious  wish !  So  now  you  can  tell  me 
what  it  was?     I've  been  awfully  curious. — " 

"You'll  know  soon  now,"  Sam  interrupted.  "Any 
minute  in  fact."  He  had  led  her  on  as  he  spoke 
until  they  stood  at  the  corner  of  the  street.  "Look 
that  way  and  you'll  see  it  coming!^'  he  cried,  no 
longer  suppressing  his  excitement. 

One  glance  was  enough  for  Di  and  she  was  off  like 
an  arrow  from  the  bow.  Missing  stove  lids  were 
nothing  to  her.  She  fairly  flew  over  the  sidewalk 
until  she  threw  herself  into  the  arms  that  were 
ready  to  receive  her. 

"Papa !  Papa !"  she  half  sobbed. 

It  was  a  wonderfully  happy  party  that  assembled 
for  breakfast  that  morning,  with  Uncle  Toby  hov- 
ering over  the  table  and  brushing  imaginary  specks 
off  Mr.  Carter's  coat  to  show  that  he  had  not  for- 
gotten his  duties.  Mr.  Brand  and  Sam  had  wanted 
to  breakfast  elsewhere,  but  the  Carters  had  insisted 
on  their  presence. 

"This  family  is  never  going  to  be  parted  again," 
Mr.  Carter  said  positively.  "My  wandering  days 
are  over.     I've  found  a  place  that  I  am  content  to 


Sam's  Wish  Comes  True  289 

live  and  die  in.  Other  people  call  it  the  Buenos 
Aguas  Rancho,  but  I  call  it  Fairy-land.  IVe  only 
one  worry  now  in  all  the  world.  As  you  didn't  get 
my  letters  of  course  you  never  got  the  map  I  sent 
you." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  did,"  said  Di  surprised. 

"How  can  that  be?"  asked  her  father,  wrinkling 
his  brow,  and  addressing  Mrs.  Carter.  "A  letter, 
saying  I  would  shortly  come  east  for  you,  and  money 
were  in  the  package  with  the  map." 

"There  was  nothing  in  it  but  the  map  when  we 
got  it,"  Mrs.  Carter  averred. 

"After  all  that's  the  important  thing  now,"  Mr. 
Carter  said.    "Let  me  have  it,  Di." 

Di  obediently  brought  it  from  a  side  table  where 
she  had  thrown  it  the  night  before. 

"I'm  sorry  it  got  torn,"  she  said.  "It's  not  hurt 
much.    It  happened  when  Mr.  Yerber  stole  it." 

"When  Yerber  stole  it?"  her  father  repeated  as 
if  he  could  not  believe  his  ears.  "What  in  the  world 
do  you  know  of  Yerber?" 

Everybody  started  to  explain  at  once,  but  stopped 
when  Mrs.  Carter  said  "You  remember,  Di,  he  told 
us  that  was  only  a  nickname.  Yerba  Buena  Cy,  he 
said  he  was  called." 

"Well,  just  because  he  said  so,  Fm  quite  sure  it 
was  not  true,"  Di  exclaimed.  "You  see,  papa,  he 
had  gloves  that  I'd  embroidered  for  your  birthday 
long  ago,  and  he  pretended  he  bought  them  because 
the  initials  were  his  own." 


290  Dian-tha's  Quest 

Once  more  everybody  began  to  talk  until  Mr.  Car- 
ter raised  a  protesting  hand. 

"Please,  please!  One  at  a  time,'*  he  said.  "Fm 
used  to  Di's  ways,  so  suppose  you  let  her  tell  me 
how  and  where  you  came  across  Yerber.  As  a  mat- 
ter of  fact  her  guess  is  good,  because  the  man  is  just 
Jake  Yerber  and  he  stole  those  gloves  when  we  sent 
him  to  the  Bay  with  letters  for  the  out-going  mail." 

Di  made  short  work  of  the  story,  and  Mr.  Carter 
held  up  the  map  half  sadly. 

"It's  too  bad  the  rascal  kept  the  only  part  of  it 
that  was  worth  anything,"  he  said. 

"He  didn't  keep  any  of  it,"  Di  declared,  surprised. 

"He  kept  the  stick  upon  which  it  was  rolled," 
Mr.  Carter  explained,  but  Di  shook  a  positive  head. 

"Oh  no,"  she  said,  "he  never  had  that.  I  snatched 
it  away  from  him,  that's  how  the  map  got  torn." 

"Have  you  still  got  it?"  her  father  cried,  "be- 
cause, if  you  have,  the  Buenos  Aguas  Rancho  is 
ours." 

"I  have  it  safe,"  Di  answered  him. 

"How  is  that  stick  so  valuable?"  Mrs.  Carter 
asked.    "Let  us  have  no  more  mysteries,  Charles." 

"It's  a  record  made  in  Indian  fashion,"  Mr.  Car- 
ter explained,  "of  the  hiding  place  of  a  very  rich 
treasure.  I  had  gone  to  San  Diego,  on  business  of 
importance  for  the  hidalgo,  when  a  rumor  came  that 
American  soldiers  were  about  to  descend  upon  the 
rancho.    Judging  them  by  the  Mexican  soldiery  with 


Sam's  Wish  Comes  True  291 

whom  he  had  had  to  deal,  the  old  gentleman  and 
one  Indian  servant,  a  trustworthy  man,  gathered  to- 
gether all  his  money,  plate  and  jewels,  which  they 
rode  off  with  and  buried." 

"That's  what  the  Indian  told  us!"  Sam  could  not 
forbear  whispering  excitedly  to  Di. 

"When  I  returned  the  final  show  of  resistance  to 
the  Americans  was  over,  but  it  did  not  fit  with  the 
old  man's  pride  to  live  in  the  country  of  his  con- 
querors, so  he  determined  to  go  to  Spain,  where  he 
had  sent  his  only  son  some  time  before  because  he 
was  not  altogether  safe  under  Mexican  rule." 

Di  nodded,  remembering  J.  B.  Smith's  story. 

"Meanwhile  the  old  gentleman  had  come  to  regard 
me  as  another  son,"  Mr.  Carter  went  on.  "I  was 
very  anxious,  not  having  heard  from  you,  so  he  sug- 
gested that  I  escort  him  to  New  York  and  then  go 
to  look  for  you.  Crossing  the  Isthmus,  his  old  ser- 
vant died,  but  he  and  I  got  safely  over  and  I  saw  him 
leave  for  Spain  before  I  began  my  hunt  for  you. 
The  day  he  sailed  he  told  me  that  he  proposed  to 
deed  the  rancho  to  me,  only  trusting  to  my  honor, 
to  find  the  treasure  and  forward  it  to  him.  The  old 
Indian  was  dead.  The  tally-stick  held  the  only  reli- 
able record  of  the  hiding  place,  as  I  knew  the  hidalgo 
memory  to  be  very  faulty,  but  when  he  described  the 
stick  to  me  I  remembered  that  I  had  picked  it  up 
from  his  writing  table  where  I  was  at  work  and,  un- 
conscious of  its  value,  had  used  it  to  mount  that  map 
I  had  made  for  you." 


292  DIantha's  Quest 

"Was  it  Yerber  who  took  my  map  to  mall?'*  DI 
asked  puzzled.  *'Why  do  you  suppose  he  sent  It 
to  me  at  all  if  afterward  he  wanted  it  enough  to  try 
to  steal  it?" 

"IVe  been  turning  that  over  in  my  mind,"  her 
father  replied,  "and  this  is  the  conclusion  I  have 
come  to.  Yerber  had  an  easy  life  at  the  rancho  and 
meant  to  come  back  to  us ;  but  he  was  always  a  gam- 
bler and  in  San  Francisco,  or  before  he  got  there 
even,  he  had  perhaps  lost  all  his  own  money,  so  he 
opened  the  package,  took  out  the  money  it  contained 
and  sealed  the  package  again,  intending  to  swear 
by  all  he  held  sacred  that  its  contents  must  have  been 
stolen  after  it  left  his  hands.  Then  he  either 
played  cards  till  it  was  gone  or  used  the  money  to 
buy  supplies  to  take  him  to  the  gold  fields.  I  remem- 
ber we  explained  his  non-return  by  the  fact  that  he 
was  in  San  Francisco  when  the  first  big  strike  was 
reported  and  had  probably  been  taken  with  a  bad 
case  of  gold  fever.  Having  sent  the  map  off,  it  may 
have  occurred  to  him,  too  late,  that  it  contained  the 
record  of  the  buried  treasure;  because  naturally  it 
was  an  open  secret  about  the  rancho  that  the  plate 
and  other  valuables  had  not  walked  off  on  their  own 
legs." 

"Of  course  that's  exactly  what  did  happen,"  said 
Di,  a  light  breaking  in  on  her,  "for  it  was  Yerber 
himself  J.  B.  Smith  saw,  and  it  was  my  package  that 
he  opened." 


Sam's  Wish  Comes  True  293 

When  Smith's  letter  had  been  produced  and  read 
no  doubt  of  this  remained. 

"Oh,  dear,"  sighed  Di,  "Fm  afraid  its  going 
to  be  very  hum-drum  to  settle  down  and  learn  to 
be  a  young  lady,  after  all  that  I've  been  doing  for 
nearly  a  year;  but  I  suppose  Sam  and  I  will  have  to 
study  like  mad  to  make  up  for  lost  time." 

Sam  looked  at  her  with  his  mouth  a  little  open. 
In  all  the  rejoicing  that  had  gone  on  around  him 
he  had  been  conscious  of  a  tiny  ache  because  it 
seemed  to  mean  that  he  and  these  friends  were  soon 
to  part,  perhaps  not  forever,  but  at  least  that  things 
would  never  again  be  on  the  same  footing  between 
them. 

"It'll  be  harder  work  studying  alone,"  he  said  at 
last  with  a  sigh. 

"Sam  Brand,  that's  the  meanest  thing  you  ever 
said!"  Di  cried,  flushing  crimson.  "You  don't  in- 
tend to  leave  us  now,  do  you?  You  always  pre- 
tended that  what  you  wanted  most  was  an  educa- 
tion, and  here's  your  chance.  If  you  go  off  hunting 
for  more  gold  I — I'll  never  forgive  you!"  There 
were  tears  in  her  eyes  as  she  stopped  speaking  and 
she  turned  to  bury  her  head  on  her  father's  shoulder, 
while  he  looked  over  the  beloved  red  curls  smiling 
at  Sam. 

"You  can't  get  out  of  it,  young  man,"  he  an- 
nounced. "You  wanted  an  education  and  now  you're 
forced  to  have  one,  so  you  may  as  well  be  resigned. 
Mr.  Brand,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  Sam's  father, 


294  DIantha's  Quest 

who  was  very  silent  in  such  elegant  company,  "there's 
a  place  waiting  for  you  on  the  rancho.  Come  down 
and  look  us  over;  then,  if  you  think  you'd  like  to 
have  another  try  in  the  gold  fields,  there  will  be 
nothing  to  stop  you ;  but  you've  none  of  you  seen  the 
real  California  yet,  the  California  of  golden  sun 
and  golden  fruit  and  golden  flowers ;  better  than  all 
of  the  hard  gold  ever  dug  out  of  the  ground.  When 
you've  once  seen  it  you  will  all  love  it  as  I  do  and 
never  want  to  go  away  again!" 

"It  must  be  Fairy-land,"  Sam  Brand  thought  as 
he  saw  in  Mr.  Carter's  eyes  the  same,  far-away, 
dreamy  look  he  had  so  often  noted  in  Diantha's. 

"You  know,  Di,"  he  said  to  her  a  few  days  later 
when  they  were  busy  preparing  for  their  journey  to 
the  Buenos  Aguas  Rancho,  "I've  discovered  some- 
thing." 

"Gold?"  asked  the  girl. 

"Better  than  that.  I've  a  fairy  god-mother,"  he 
announced  triumphantly. 

"Oh,  of  course.  I  always  said  you  had,"  Di  de- 
clared in  her  most  matter-of-fact  way. 

"But  I  know  a  lot  about  my  fairy  god-mother. 
More  than  most  people  do,"  the  boy  went  on.  "I 
can  tell  you  just  what  she  looks  like." 

"Really!"  exclaimed  Di  in  surprise.  "What  is 
she  like?" 

"Well,  for  one  thing,"  Sam  drawled  slowly,  "she's 
got  red  hair !" 


Sam's  Wish  Comes  True  295 

"Nonsense,  Sam!"  laughed  Di,  catching  his  mean- 
ing. "Fairy  god-mothers  don't  have  red  hair;  but 
if  one  of  them  did,"  she  continued  with  mock  sever- 
ity, "she  would  much  prefer  that  you  called  it  au- 
burn." 


..«  IS  DTJE  ON  THE  LAST  DAXx. 
•^«^°°^8T^EDBELOVr 

— :r"r.F    25    CENTS 
AN  INITIAL    FINE    OF  ^^^  ^„  „^ubn 

'^  ^    Ae?SESSED   FOR   ^^'  -uE  PENALTY 

d  .HC«64-\roO    ON    THE    SEVENTH    U.V 
DAY     AND    TO     $1°  ^^^_^ 

OVERDUE. 

TOm933 


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